Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [585]
Clubs didn’t respond.
“You must live as a soldier,” Sazed said, pulling something from his sash with a weak hand. “But you can still dream like an artist. Here. I had this made for you. It is a symbol of the Dadradah faith. To its people, being an artist was a higher calling, even, than being a priest.”
He set the wooden disk on the table. Then, with effort, he smiled at Clubs. It had been a long time since he had preached a religion, and he wasn’t certain what had made him decide to offer this one to Clubs. Perhaps it was to prove to himself that there was value in them. Perhaps it was stubbornness, reacting against the things Clubs had said earlier. Either way, he found satisfaction in the way that Clubs stared at the simple wooden disk with the carved picture of a brush on it.
The last time I preached a religion, he thought, I was in that village to the south, the one where Marsh found me.
Whatever happened to him, anyway? Why didn’t he return to the city?
“Your woman has been looking for you,” Clubs finally said, looking up, leaving the disk on the table.
“My woman?” Sazed said. “Why, we are not…” He trailed off as Clubs eyed him. The surly general was quite proficient at meaningful looks.
“Very well,” Sazed said, sighing. He glanced down at his fingers and the ten glittering rings they bore. Four were tin: sight, hearing, scent, and touch. He continued to fill these; they wouldn’t handicap him much. He released his pewtermind, however, as well as his steelmind and his zincmind.
Immediately, strength refilled his body. His muscles stopped sagging, reverting from emaciated to healthy. The fuzz lifted from his mind, allowing him to think clearly, and the thick, swollen slowness evaporated. He stood, invigorated.
“That’s fascinating,” Clubs mumbled.
Sazed looked down.
“I could see the change,” Clubs said. “Your body grew stronger, and your eyes focused. Your arms stopped shaking. I guess you don’t want to face that woman without all of your faculties, eh? I don’t blame you.” Clubs grunted to himself, then continued to eat.
Sazed bid farewell to the man, then strode out of the kitchen. His feet and hands still seemed like nearly unfeeling lumps. Yet, he felt an energy. There was nothing like simple contrast to awaken a man’s sense of indomitability.
And there was nothing that could sap that sensation more quickly than the prospect of meeting with the woman he loved. Why had Tindwyl stayed? And, if she was determined not to go back to Terris, why had she avoided him these last few days? Was she mad that he had sent Elend away? Was she disappointed that he insisted on staying to help?
He found her inside Keep Venture’s grand ballroom. He paused for a moment, impressed—as always—by the room’s unquestionable majesty. He released his sight tinmind for just a moment, removing his spectacles as he looked around the awesome space.
Enormous, rectangular stained-glass windows reached to the ceiling along both walls of the huge room. Standing at the side, Sazed was dwarfed by massive pillars that supported a small gallery that ran beneath the windows on either side of the chamber. Every bit of stone in the room seemed carved—every tile a part of one mosaic or another, every bit of glass colored to sparkle in the early-evening sunlight.
It’s been so long… he thought. The first time he’d seen this chamber, he had been escorting Vin to her first ball. It was then, while playing the part of Valette Renoux, she had met Elend. Sazed had chastised her for carelessly attracting the attention of so powerful a man.
And now he himself had performed their marriage. He smiled, replacing his spectacles and filling his eyesight tinmind again. May the Forgotten Gods watch over you, children. Make something of our sacrifice, if you can.
Tindwyl stood speaking with Dockson and a small group of functionaries