Lightsong Gathers His Finery in His Palace

Is there a lesson in all of this, as Lightsong accuses Llarimar of teaching? Perhaps. The value of something is indeed in how you treat it. All of the riches in the world could be piled in one place, and they would be unimportant unless you ascribed value to them. I think this is one of the reasons Lightsong has been so flippant all of his life as a god. Before Returning, the things he valued were far more intangible. People, his life’s work, intellectual freedom—all these things were taken from him, then replaced with gold and baubles. To him, they’re inferior replacements, and he can’t help but chafe—unknowingly—at his confines.

I wanted a chance for Llarimar to take off his hat and be just a friend for a time. His belief system is complex, since he knew Lightsong ahead of time. He sees the divine mantle, but he also sees the man.

Siri Is Locked Up, and Her Guards Change

Just a quick reminder here of what’s going on with Siri. I worry about her next few sequences looking too “damsel in distress.” I tried to counteract this in several places, which I’ll mention. Still, I had a problem here. Once things turn to combat and fighting, there is very little that Siri can do. She’s not Vin—she can’t approach things the same way.

However, since Elend got to play damsel in distress fairly often in the Mistborn books, I think I’ve earned the right to put a female protagonist into that role here. It’s appropriate to the plot, and I don’t think it could have worked any other way.

Lightsong Sneaks into Mercystar’s Palace

Here’s the other big place where I cheated just a tad and added Lightsong’s dreams of the tunnels and the moon as a reason to get him into the right place at the right time. I added this in a later draft; originally, this was one of my big personal problems with the book: the fact that Lightsong got into just the right place at just the right time. It was just too coincidental, and it always bugged me.

I wasn’t paying attention to the tools I’d given myself (as I think I mentioned earlier). If I’m going to go to all this trouble to build a magic system that uses prophecy as a major component of its religion, then I might as well use a few of those prophecies as small plot points. I didn’t want them to solve any major problems, but letting Lightsong dream of where he has to be brings nice closure to the entire “What’s in those tunnels?” plot while at the same time playing into his quest to determine if he really is a god or not.

By the way, the grate that Lightsong closes on the tunnel behind them . . . well, it didn’t do any good. There’s a lever and pulley on the other side, in the room beneath Mercystar’s palace—and the locking mechanism is there too. The grate is there to keep people out of her palace, installed by her priests to keep unsavory elements (if there are any) from sneaking in through the tunnels. Vasher had to pull this very grate up before he could sneak into the tunnels himself. Mercystar’s priests don’t follow because they don’t care that Lightsong snuck in and down; they just want to guard their goddess. So they arrange troops up above, waiting for Lightsong to return.

Lightsong Attacks

And we discover that Lightsong is no good with the sword. I toyed with making him able to use it, but I felt it was too much of a cut corner. Knowing who he was before he died, he’d not have needed to know the sword. Beyond that, I felt it would have been too expected. Lightsong himself built it up so much that I feel it would have been a boring plot twist to have him able to use the sword. Beyond that, it would have been just too convenient.

Reversals. I wanted to reverse what you assume about him, and to reverse how this scene would have probably played out in a lot of fantasy stories. Once again, I’m not reversing just to reverse. I’m reversing because it’s appropriate for the characters, setting, and plot—and then finally because it’s more interesting this way.

Go to the book.