The Hero of Ages

This is not my problem, Sazed told himself. I need to remain focused. I've let my studies of the religions in my portfolio lapse. He was getting close to being finished, and that worried him. So far, every single religion had proven full of inconsistencies, contradictions, and logical flaws. He was growing more and more worried that, even among the hundreds of religions in his metalminds, he would never be able to find the truth.

A wave from Breeze distracted him. So, Sazed stood-forcing himself not to show the despair he felt-and moved over to the table. The men there made room.

'Thank you,' Sazed said, sitting.

'You forgot your cup, friend Terrisman,' one of the men pointed out.

'I apologize,' Sazed said. 'I have never been one fond of intoxicants. Please, do not take offense. Your thoughtful gift was nevertheless appreciated.'

'Does he always talk like that?' one of the men asked, looking at Breeze.

'You've never known a Terrismen, have you?' asked another.

Sazed flushed, to which Breeze chuckled, laying a hand on Sazed's shoulder. 'All right, gentlemen. I've brought you the Terrisman, as requested. Go ahead, ask your questions.'

There were six local men at the table-all mine workers, from what Sazed could tell. One of the men leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him, knuckles scarred by rock. 'Breeze here says a lot of things,' the man said in a low voice. 'But people like him always make promises. Quellion said a lot of the same things a year ago, when he was taking control after Straff Venture left.'

'Yes,' Sazed. 'I can understand your skepticism.'

'But,' the man said, raising a hand. 'Terrismen don't lie. They're good people. Everyone knows that-lords, skaa, thieves, and obligators.'

'So, we wanted to talk to you,' another of the men said. 'Maybe you're different; maybe you'll lie to us. But, better to hear it from a Terrisman than a Soother.'

Breeze blinked, revealing just a faint hint of surprise. Apparently, he hadn't realized they'd been aware of his abilities.

'Ask your questions,' Sazed said.

'Why did you come to this city?' one of the men asked.

'To take control of it,' Sazed said.

'Why do you care?' another asked. 'Why does Venture's son even want Urteau?'

'Two reasons,' Sazed said. 'First, because of the resources it offers. I cannot go into details, but suffice it to say that your city is very desirable for economic reasons. The second reason, however, is equally important. Lord Elend Venture is one of the best men I have ever known. He believes he can do better for this people than the current government.'

'That wouldn't be hard,' one of the men grumbled.

Another man shook his head. 'What? You want to give the city back to the Ventures? One year, and you've forgotten the things that Straff used to do in this city?'

'Elend Venture is not his father,' Sazed said. 'He is a man worthy of being followed.'

'And the Terris people?' one of the skaa asked. 'Do they follow him?'

'In a way,' Sazed said. 'Once, my people tried to rule themselves, as your people now do. However, they realized the advantages of an alliance. My people have moved to the Central Dominance, and they accept the protection of Elend Venture.' Of course, Sazed thought, they'd rather follow me. If I would be their king.

The table fell silent.

'I don't know,' one of the men said. 'What business do we have even talking about this? I mean, Quellion is in charge, and these strangers don't have an army to take his throne away from him. What's the point?'

'The Lord Ruler fell to us when we had no army,' Breeze pointed out, 'and Quellion himself seized the government from noble rule. Change can occur.'

'We're not trying to form an army or rebellion,' Sazed quickly added. 'We just want you to start. . thinking. Talking with your friends. You are obviously influential men. Perhaps if Quellion hears of discontent among his people, he will begin to change his ways.'

'Maybe,' one of the men said.

'We don't need these outsiders,' the other man repeated. 'The Survivor of the Flames has come to deal with Quellion.'

Sazed blinked. Survivor of the Flames? He caught a sly smile on Breeze's lips-the Soother had apparently heard the term before, and now he appeared to be watching Sazed for a reaction.

'The Survivor doesn't enter into this,' one of the men said. 'I can't believe we're even thinking of rebellion. Most of the world is in chaos, if you hear the reports! Shouldn't we just be happy with what we've got?'

The Survivor? Sazed thought. Kelsier? But, they seem to have given him a new title. Survivor of the Flames?

'You're starting to twitch, Sazed,' Breeze whispered. 'You might as well just ask. No harm in asking, right?'

No harm in asking.

'The. . Survivor of the Flames?' Sazed asked. 'Why do you call Kelsier that?'

'Not Kelsier,' one of the men said. 'The other Survivor. The new one.'

'The Survivor of Hathsin came to overthrow the Lord Ruler,' one of the men said. 'So, can't we assume the Survivor of the Flames has come to overthrow Quellion? Maybe we should listen to these men.'

'If the Survivor is here to overthrow Quellion,' another man said, 'then he won't need the help of these types. They just want the city for themselves.'

'Excuse me,' Sazed said. 'But. . might we meet this new Survivor?'

The group of men shared looks.

'Please,' Sazed said. 'I was a friend to the Survivor of Hathsin. I should very much like to meet a man whom you have deemed worthy of Kelsier's stature.'

'Tomorrow,' one of the men said. 'Quellion tries to keep the dates quiet, but they get out. There will be executions near Marketpit. Be there.'

Even now, I can barely grasp the scope of all this. The events surrounding the end of the world seem even larger than the Final Empire and the people within it. I sense shards of something from long ago, a fractured presence, something spanning the void.

I have delved and searched, and have only been able to come up with a single name: Adonasium. Who, or what, it was, I do not yet know.

39

Tensoon sat on his haunches. Horrified.

Ash rained down like shards of a broken sky, floating, making the very air look pocked and sickly. Even where he sat, atop a windswept hill, there was a layer of ash smothering the plant life. Some trees had branches broken by the weight of repeated ash pileups.

How could they not see? he thought. How can they hide in their hole of a Homeland, content to let the land above die?

Yet, TenSoon had lived for hundreds of years, and a part of him understood the tired complacency of the First and Second Generations. At times he'd felt the same thing himself. A desire to simply wait. To spend years idly, content in the Homeland. He'd seen the outside world-seen more of it than any human or koloss would ever know. What need had he of experiencing more?

The Seconds had seen him as more orthodox and obedient than his brethren, all because he had continually