Mistborn #03 The Hero of Ages

her. Working on their collection of myths and references regarding the Hero of Ages.
    "In truth, Lord Breeze," Sazed said, "I do feel somewhat guilty."
    Breeze rolled his eyes. "Sazed. Do you always have to be feeling guilty about something? Back in the original crew, you felt you weren't doing enough to help us overthrow the Lord Ruler. Then, once we killed him, you were distraught because you weren't doing what the other Keepers told you to. Do you want to tell me exactly how you go about feeling guilty for studying, of all things?"
    "I enjoy it."
    "That's wonderful, my dear man," Breeze said. "Why be ashamed of that enjoyment? It's not like you enjoy killing puppies or something like that. True, I think you're a bit crazy, but if you want to enjoy something so particularly esoteric, then you should feel free. It leaves more room for those of us who prefer more common delights—such as getting drunk on Straff Venture's finest wines."
    Sazed smiled. He knew that Breeze was Pushing on his emotions, making him feel better, but he did not rebel against the emotions. The truth was, he did feel good. Better than he had in some time.
    Though, still . . .
    "It is not so simple, Lord Breeze," Sazed said, setting down his pen. "I feel happy being able to simply sit and read, without having to be in charge. That is why I feel guilty."
    "Not everybody is meant to be a leader, Sazed."
    "No," Sazed said, "but Lord Elend did put me in charge of securing this city. I should be planning our overthrow of the Citizen, not letting Lord Spook do it."
    "My dear man!" Breeze said, leaning down. "Have I taught you nothing? Being in charge isn't about doing anything—it's about making certain that other people do what they're supposed to! Delegation, my friend. Without it, we would have to bake our own bread and dig our own latrines!" Then, Breeze leaned in. "And, trust me. You don't want to taste anything I've had a hand in baking. Ever. Particularly after I've cleaned a latrine."
    Sazed shook his head. "This isn't what Tindwyl would have wanted of me. She respected leaders and politicians."
    "Correct me if you must," Breeze said, "but didn't she fall in love with you, not some king or prince?"
    "Well, love is perhaps—"
    "Come now, Sazed," Breeze said. "You were mooning about as surely as any teenage boy with a new fancy. And, while she was a bit more reserved, she did love you. One didn't have to be a Soother to see that much."
    Sazed sighed, looking down.
    "Is this what she'd want of you, Sazed?" Breeze said. "To deny who you are? To become yet another stuffy politician?"
    "I do not know, Lord Breeze," Sazed said softly. "I . . . I don't have her anymore. And so, perhaps, I can remember her by being involved in what she loved."
    "Sazed," Breeze said frankly, "how is it you can be so wise in so many areas, yet be so completely stupid about this?"
    "I . . ."
    "A man is what he has passion about," Breeze said. "I've found that if you give up what you want most for what you think you should want more, you'll just end up miserable."
    "And if what I want isn't what society needs?" Sazed said. "Sometimes, we just have to do what we don't enjoy. That is a simple fact of life, I think."
    Breeze shrugged. "I don't worry about that. I just do what I'm good at. In my case, that's making other people do things that I don't want to. It all fits together, in the end."
    Sazed shook his head. It wasn't that simple, and his depression lately hadn't only been tied to Tindwyl and her death. He had put off his study of the religions, but he knew that he would be driven to return to them. The work with the canals was a welcome distraction, but even so, Sazed could feel his earlier conclusions and work looming.
    He didn't want to discover that the last religions in the group held no answers. That was part of why it was so relaxing for him to study something else, for engineering didn't threaten his worldview. However, he could not distract himself forever. He would find the answers, or the lack of answers, eventually. His portfolio sat beneath the desk, resting against the sack of metalminds.
    For now, however, he allowed himself a reprieve. But even with his concern over the religions abated for the moment, there were concerns that needed addressing. He nodded his head in the direction of the lake. Spook, just barely visible, stood at the edge, speaking with Goradel and some of the soldiers.
    "And what of him, Lord Breeze?" Sazed asked in a whisper, low