Mistborn #02 The Well of Ascension

distance, Elend could see a shadow upon the land: the third army had finally arrived in the wake of the refugees it had sent. Their scouts weren't certain why the koloss force had taken so long to get to Luthadel. The villagers' sad tale, however, gave some clue.
    The koloss had not attacked Straff or Cett. They lay waiting. Apparently, Jastes had enough control over them to keep them in check. And so they joined the siege, another beast waiting for the opportunity to spring on Luthadel.
    When you can't have both freedom and safety, which do you choose . . .?
    "You seem surprised to realize that you want to be in charge," Ham said.
    "I just haven't ever voiced the desire before," Elend said. "It sounds so arrogant, when I actually say it. I want to be king. I don't want another man to take my place. Not Penrod, not Cett. . .not anyone. The position is mine. This city is mine."
    "I don't know if 'arrogant' is the right word, El," Ham said. "Why do you want to be king?"
    "To protect this people," Elend said. "To guard their safety—and their rights. But, also to make certain that the noblemen don't end up on the wrong end of another rebellion."
    "That's not arrogance."
    "It is, Ham," Elend said. "But it's an understandable arrogance. I don't think a man could lead without it. Actually, I think it's what I've been missing through most of my reign. Arrogance."
    "Self-confidence."
    "A nicer word for the same concept," Elend said. "I can do a better job for this people than another man could. I just have to find a way to prove that fact to them."
    "You will."
    "You're an optimist, Ham," Elend said.
    "So are you," Ham noted.
    Elend smiled. "True. But this job is changing me."
    "Well, if you want to keep the job, we should probably get back to studying. We only have one day left."
    Elend shook his head. "I've read all I can, Ham. I will not take advantage of the law, so there's no reason to search for loopholes, and studying other books looking for inspiration just isn't working. I need time to think. Time to walk. . .."
    They continued to do so. As they did, Elend noticed something out in the distance. A group of enemy soldiers doing something he couldn't distinguish. He waved over one of his men.
    "What is that?" he asked.
    The soldier shaded his eyes, looking. "Looks like another skirmish between Cett's men and Straff's, Your Majesty."
    Elend raised an eyebrow. "That happens often?"
    The soldier shrugged. "More and more often, lately. Usually the scouting patrols run afoul of each other and get into a conflict. Leave a few bodies behind when they retreat. Nothing big, Your Majesty."
    Elend nodded, dismissing the man. Big enough , he thought to himself. Those armies must be as tense as we are. The soldiers can't enjoy remaining so long in a siege, particularly with the winter weather .
    They were close. The arrival of the koloss would only cause more chaos. If he shoved right, Straff and Cett would be pushed into a head-on battle. I just need a little more time ! he thought, continuing to walk, Ham at his side.
    Yet, first he needed to get his throne back. Without that authority, he was nothing—and could do nothing.
    The problem gnawed at his mind. As the walk continued, however, something distracted him—this time, something inside the walls rather than outside of them. Ham was right—the soldiers did stand a little taller when Elend approached their posts. They saluted him, and he nodded to them, walking with hand on pommel, as Tindwyl had instructed.
    If I do keep my throne, I owe it to that woman , he thought. Of course, she'd chastise him for that thought. She would tell him that he kept his throne because he deserved to—because he was king. In changing himself, he had simply used the resources at hand to overcome his challenges.
    He wasn't certain if he'd ever be able to see things that way. But, her final lesson to him the day before—he somehow knew that it was her last—had taught him only one new concept: that there was no one mold for kingship. He would not be like the kings of the past, any more than he would be like Kelsier.
    He would be Elend Venture. His roots were in philosophy, so he would be remembered as a scholar. He'd best use that to his advantage, or he wouldn't be remembered at all. No kings could admit their weaknesses, but they were certainly wise to admit their strengths.
    And what are my strengths ? he thought. Why should I be the one who rules this city, and those around it ?
    Yes, he