Mistborn

It meant “age,” and he had a sudden impression of a strange symbol made from four dots and some lines that curved, like ripples in a river.

Huh, Kelsier thought. He holds the powers of creation in twain, a god among gods. And he’s still a terrible liar.

The end was approaching quickly now.

friend. I know a guy. Tall, bald, wears lots of earrings. Have a chat with him next—”

When he got out of this, and he would get out of it, he’d certainly have stories to tell.

“Fuzz and I go way back.”

That means we can work together, you and I.” “Oh hell,”

Kelsier finally stopped on a lofty highland plateau overlooking a new world, winds from three Realms ruffling his clothing. Grass grew beneath his feet, then blossoms sprouted. Mare’s flowers.

“Oh, hell,” Kelsier said. “There’s actually a God?” “Yes.” Kelsier decked him.