Free Mistborn: The Well of Ascension by Brandon Sanderson

well."
    "That's different," Vin said. "You're only a few years older than me—Kelsier was ancient."
    "Vin, thirty-eight is not ancient."
    "Close enough."
    Elend chuckled again, but she could tell that he wasn't satisfied. Why had she chosen Elend, rather than Kelsier? Kelsier had been the visionary, the hero, the Mistborn.
    "Kelsier was a great man," Vin said quietly as Elend began to stroke her hair. "But. . .there were things about him, Elend. Frightening things. He was intense, reckless, even a little bit cruel. Unforgiving. He'd slaughter people without guilt or concern, just because they upheld the Final Empire or worked for the Lord Ruler.
    "I could love him as a teacher and a friend. But I don't think I could ever love—not really love—a man like that. I don't blame him; he was of the streets, like me. When you struggle so hard for life, you grow strong—but you can grow harsh, too. His fault or not, Kelsier reminded me too much of men I. . .knew when I was younger. Kell was a far better person than they—he really could be kind, and he did sacrifice his life for the skaa. However, he was just so hard."
    She closed her eyes, feeling Elend's warmth. "You, Elend Venture, are a good man. A truly good man."
    "Good men don't become legends," he said quietly.
    "Good men don't need to become legends." She opened her eyes, looking up at him. "They just do what's right anyway."
    Elend smiled. Then he kissed the top of her head and leaned back. They lay there for a time, in a room warm with sunlight, relaxing.
    "He saved my life, once," Elend finally said.
    "Who?" Vin asked with surprise. "Kelsier?"
    Elend nodded. "That day after Spook and OreSeur were captured, the day Kelsier died. There was a battle in the square when Ham and some soldiers tried to free the captives."
    "I was there," Vin said. "Hiding with Breeze and Dox in one of the alleyways."
    "Really?" Elend said, sounding a bit amused. "Because I came looking for you. I thought that they'd arrested you, along with OreSeur—he was pretending to be your uncle, then. I tried to get to the cages to rescue you."
    "You did what ? Elend, it was a battlefield in that square! There was an Inquisitor there, for the Lord Ruler's sake!"
    "I know," Elend said, smiling faintly. "See, that Inquisitor is the one who tried to kill me. It had its axe raised and everything. And then. . .Kelsier was there. He smashed into the Inquisitor, throwing it to the ground."
    "Probably just a coincidence," Vin said.
    "No," Elend said softly. "He meant it, Vin. He looked at me while he struggled with the Inquisitor, and I saw it in his eyes. I've always wondered about that moment; everyone tells me that Kelsier hated the nobility even more than Dox does."
    Vin paused. "He. . .started to change a little at the end, I think."
    "Change enough that he'd risk himself to protect a random nobleman?"
    "He knew that I loved you," Vin said, smiling faintly. "I guess, in the end, that proved stronger than his hatred."
    "I didn't realize. . ." He trailed off as Vin turned, hearing something. Footsteps approaching. She sat up, and a second later, Ham poked his head into the room. He paused when he saw Vin sitting in Elend's lap, however.
    "Oh," Ham said. "Sorry."
    "No, wait," Vin said. Ham poked his head back in, and Vin turned to Elend. "I almost forgot why I came looking for you in the first place. I got a new package from Terion today."
    " Another one?" Elend asked. "Vin, when are you going to give this up?"
    "I can't afford to," she said.
    "It can't be all that important, can it?" he asked. "I mean, if everybody's forgotten what that last metal does, then it must not be very powerful."
    "Either that," Vin said, "or it was so amazingly powerful that the Ministry worked very hard to keep it a secret." She slid off of the chair to stand up, then took the pouch and thin bar out of her pocket. She handed the bar to Elend, who sat up in his plush chair.
    Silvery and reflective, the metal—like the aluminum