Mistborn: Secret History

1

Kelsier ran across a broken world. The trouble had been apparent the moment he left the ocean, stepping back onto the misty ground that made up the Final Empire. Here he’d found the wreckage of a coastal city. Smashed buildings, shattered streets. The entire city seemed to have slid into the ocean, a fact he wasn’t able to fully piece together until he stood above the town and noticed the shadowy remains of buildings sticking from the ocean island farther up the coast.

From there it only grew worse. Empty towns. Vast piles of ash, which manifested on this side as rolling hills that he ran across for a time before realizing what they were.

Several days into his run home, he passed a small village where a few glowing souls huddled together in a building. As he watched, horrified, the roof collapsed, dumping ash on them. Three glows winked out immediately, and the souls of three ashen skaa appeared in the Cognitive Realm, their strings to the physical world cut.

Preservation didn’t appear to greet them.

Kelsier grabbed one of them, an aged woman who – as he took her hand – started and looked at him with wide eyes. “Lord Ruler!”

“No,” Kelsier said. “But close. What is happening?”

She started to stretch away. Her companions had already vanished.

“It’s ending…” she whispered. “All ending…”

And she was gone. Kelsier was left holding empty air, disturbed.

He started running again. He’d felt guilty leaving the horse behind in the forest, but surely the animal was better off there than it would have been here.

Was he too late? Was Preservation already dead?

He ran himself hard, the heft of the glass orb weighing down his pack. Perhaps it was the urgency, but his course became even more single-minded than it had been during his trip out. He didn’t want to see the failing world, the death all around him. Compared to that the exhaustion of the run was preferable, and so he sought it, running himself ragged.

He traveled for days upon days. Weeks upon weeks. Never stopping, never looking. Until…

Kelsier.

He jolted to a halt on a field of windswept ash. He had the distinct impression of mist in the physical world. Glowing mist. Power. He could not see that here, but he could sense it all around him.

“Fuzz?” he said, raising a hand to his forehead. Had he imagined that voice?

Not that way, Kelsier, the voice said, sounding distant. But yes, it was Preservation. We aren’t… aren’t… there….

The crushing weight of fatigue hit Kelsier. Where was he? He spun about, looking for some kind of landmark, but those were difficult to find out here. The ash had buried the canals; a few weeks back he remembered swimming down through the ground to find them. Lately… he’d just been running….

“Where?” Kelsier demanded. “Fuzz?”

So… tired…

“I know,” Kelsier whispered. “I know, Fuzz.”

Fadrex. Come to Fadrex. You are close….

Fadrex City? Kelsier had been there before, in his youth. It was just south of…

There. Just barely visible in the Cognitive Realm, he made out the shadowy tip of Mt. Morag in the distance. That direction was north.

He turned his back toward the ashmount and ran for everything he was worth. It seemed a brief eyeblink before he reached the city and was given a welcome, warming sight. Souls.

The city was alive. Guards in the towers and on the tall rock formations surrounding the city. People in the streets, sleeping in their beds, clogging the buildings with beautiful, shining light. Kelsier walked right through the city gates, entering a wonderful, radiant city where people still fought on.

In the warmth of that glow, he knew he was not too late.

Unfortunately, his was not the only attention focused here. He had resisted looking upward during his run, but he could not help but do so now, confronting the churning, boiling mass. Shapes like black snakes slithered across one another, stretching to the horizon in all directions. It was watching. It was here.

So where was Preservation? Kelsier walked through the city, basking in the presence of other souls, recovering from his extended run. He stopped at one street corner, then spotted something. A tiny line of light, like a very long piece of hair, near his feet. He knelt, picking at it, and found that it stretched all the way along the street – impossibly thin, glowing faintly, yet too strong for him to break.

“Fuzz?” Kelsier said, following the strand, finding where it connected to another – it seemed a lattice that spread through the whole city.

Yes. I… I’m trying….

“Nice work.”

I can’t talk to them… Fuzz said. I’m dying, Kelsier….

“Hang on,” Kelsier said. “I’ve found something; it’s here in my pack. I took it from those creatures you mentioned. The Eyree.”

I do not sense anything, Fuzz said.

Kelsier hesitated. He didn’t want to reveal the object to Ruin. Instead he picked up the thread, which had enough slack for him to slip it into the pack and press it against the orb.

“How about that?”

Ahh… Yes…

“Can this help you somehow?”

No, unfortunately.

Kelsier felt his heart sink further.

The power… the power is hers…. But Ruin has her, Kelsier. I can’t… I can’t give it….

“Hers?” Kelsier asked. “Vin? Is she here?”

The thread vibrated in Kelsier’s fingers like the string of an instrument. Waves came along it from one direction.

Kelsier followed them, noticing again how Preservation had covered this city with his essence. Perhaps he figured that if he was going to be strung out anyway, he should lie down like a protective blanket.

Preservation led him to a small city square clogged with glowing souls and bits of metal on the walls. They glowed so brightly, particularly in contrast to his months out alone. Was one of these souls Vin?

No, they were beggars. He moved among them, feeling at their souls with his fingertips, catching glimpses of them in the other Realm. Huddled in the ash, coughing and shivering. The fallen men and women of the Final Empire, the people even the common skaa tended to dismiss. For all his grand plans, he hadn’t made the lives of these people better, had he?

He stopped in place.

That last beggar, sitting against an old brick wall… there was something about him. Kelsier backed up, touching the beggar’s soul again, seeing a vision of a man with hands and face wrapped in bandages, white hair sticking out from beneath. Stark white hair, a fact not quite hidden by the ash that had been rubbed into it.

Kelsier felt a sudden shock, a painful spike that ran up his fingers into his soul. He jumped back as the beggar glanced his direction.

“You!” Kelsier said. “Drifter!”

The beggar shifted in place, but then glanced another direction, searching the square.

“What are you doing here?” Kelsier demanded.

The glowing figure gave no response.

Kelsier whipped his hand back and forth, trying to shake out the pain. His fingers had actually gone numb. What had that been? And how had the white-haired Drifter managed to affect him in this Realm?

A small glowing figure landed on a rooftop nearby.

“Oh, hell,” Kelsier said, looking from Vin to the Drifter. He responded immediately, throwing himself toward the wall of the building and climbing desperately up it to Vin’s side. “Vin. Vin, stay away from that man.”

Of course yelling was pointless. She couldn’t hear him.

Still, Kelsier seized her by the shoulders, seeing her in the Physical Realm. When had she grown so confident, so knowing? Those shoulders of hers had once cringed, but now they gave her the posture of a woman fully in control. Those eyes that had once widened in wonder were now narrowed with keen perception. Her hair was longer, but her slight build somehow seemed far more powerful than it had when he’d first met her.

“Vin,” Kelsier said. “Vin! Listen, please. That man is trouble. Don’t approach him. Don’t–”

Vin cocked her head, then leaped off the roof, away from the Drifter.

“Hell,” Kelsier said. “Did she actually hear me?”

Or was it a coincidence? Kelsier leaped after Vin, tossing himself carelessly from the building. He didn’t have Allomancy, but he was light, and could fall without getting hurt. He landed softly and sprinted across the springy ground, tailing Vin as best he could, running through buildings, ignoring walls, trying to stay close. She still got ahead of him.

Kelsier… Preservation’s voice whispered at him.

Something thrummed through him, a familiar jolt of power, a warmth within. It reminded him of burning metals. Preservation’s own essence, empowering him.

He ran faster, jumped farther. It wasn’t true Allomancy, but instead was something more raw and primal. It surged through Kelsier, warming his soul, letting him reach Vin – who had stopped in the street before a large building. Soon after he reached her, she took off again down the street, but this time Kelsier managed to keep pace, barely.

And she knew he was there. He could sense it in the way she leaped, trying to shake a tail, or at least catch sight of one. She was good, but this was a game he’d been playing for decades before she was born.

She could sense him. Why? How?

She sped up and he followed, with difficulty. His motions were clumsy; he had Preservation pushing him along, but he didn’t have the finesse of true Allomancy. He couldn’t Push or Pull; he merely jumped, grabbing hold of the shadowed walls of buildings, then throwing himself off in prowling leaps.

Still, he grinned widely. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed training with Vin in the mists, matching himself against another Mistborn, watching his protégé inch toward excellence. She was good now. Fantastic even. Remarkable at judging the force of each Push, at balancing her own weight against her anchors.

This was energy; this was excitement. Almost he forgot the troubles he faced. Almost this was enough. If he could dance the mists with Vin at night, then finding a way to recapture his life in the Physical Realm might not matter so much.

They hit an intersection and turned toward the city’s perimeter. Vin bounded ahead on lines of steel; Kelsier hit the ground, thrumming with Preservation’s power, and prepared to jump.

Something descended around him. A blackness of shredding spikes, of spider leg scratches in the air, of jet-black mist.

“Well,” Ruin said from all sides. “Well, well. Kelsier? How did I not see you earlier?”

The power suffocated him, pushing him toward the ground. Ahead, a small figure bounded after Vin, created of black mist and pulsing with a similar rhythm to what Kelsier had displayed. A decoy of some sort.

Like he did before, Kelsier thought. Imitating Fuzz to trick Vin. He struggled, frustrated, against his bonds.

Preservation, in turn, whimpered like a child in Kelsier’s mind, then withdrew from him. The warming power faded from within Kelsier. Remarkably, as the power dampened, so did Ruin’s ability to hold Kelsier down. Ruin’s strength became less oppressive, and Kelsier was able to struggle to his feet and push through the veil of sharp mists, stumbling onto the street.

“Where have you been?” Ruin asked. The power behind Kelsier condensed, forming into the shape of the man he’d seen before, with the red hair. The motions beneath the man’s skin were more subdued this time.

“Here and there,” Kelsier said, glancing after Vin. He’d never catch up to her now. “I thought I’d see the sights. Find out what death has to offer.”

“Ah, very coy. Did you visit the Ire? And got turned away from them, I assume. Yes, I can guess at that. What I want to know is why you returned. I thought for certain you would flee. Your part in this is done; you did what I needed you to.”

Kelsier set down his pack, hopefully keeping hidden the orb of light inside. He walked forward, strolling around Ruin’s manifestation. “My part?”

“The Eleventh Metal,” Ruin said, amused. “You think that was a coincidence? A story nobody else had heard of, a secret way to kill an immortal emperor? It fell right in your lap.”

Kelsier took it in stride. He’d already figured that Gemmel had been touched by Ruin, that Kelsier himself had been a pawn of the creature. But why could Vin hear me? What was he missing? He looked after Vin again.

“Ah,” Ruin said. “The child. You still think she’s going to defeat me, do you? Even after she set me free?”

Kelsier spun toward Ruin. Damn. How much did the creature know? Ruin smiled and stepped up to Kelsier.

“Leave Vin alone,” Kelsier hissed.

“Leave her alone? She’s mine, Kelsier. Just as you are. I’ve known that child since the day of her birth, and have been preparing her for even longer.”

Kelsier gritted his teeth.

“So cute,” Ruin said. “You actually thought this was all your idea, didn’t you? The fall of the Final Empire, the end of the Lord Ruler… recruiting Vin in the first place?”

“Ideas are never original,” Kelsier said. “Only one thing is.”

“And what is that?”

“Style,” Kelsier said.

Then he punched Ruin across the face.

Or he tried to. Ruin evaporated as his fist drew close, and a copy of him formed beside Kelsier a moment later. “Ah, Kelsier,” he said. “Was that wise?”

“No,” Kelsier said. “It was merely thematic. Leave her alone, Ruin.”

Ruin smiled at him in a pitying way, then a thousand spindly, needle-like black spikes shot from the creature’s body, ripping through the robes that made up its clothing. They pierced Kelsier like spears, fraying his soul, bringing a blinding wave of pain.

He screamed, falling to his knees. It was like the stretching when he’d first entered this place, only forced, intrusive.

He dropped to the ground, spasming, his soul leaking curls of mist. The spikes were gone, as was Ruin. But of course the creature was never truly gone. It watched from that undulating sky, covering everything.

Nothing can be destroyed, Kelsier, Ruin’s voice whispered, intruding directly into his mind. That’s something humans can’t understand. All things merely change, break down, become something new… something perfect. Preservation and I, we’re two sides to the same coin, really. For when I am done, he shall finally have his desired stillness, unchangingness. And there won’t be anything, body or soul, to disturb it.

Kelsier breathed in and out, using familiar motions from when he’d been alive to calm himself. Finally he groaned and rolled to his knees.

“You deserved that,” Preservation noted, his voice distant.

“Sure did,” Kelsier said, stumbling to his feet. “It was worth trying anyway.”

2

Over the next few days, Kelsier tried to replicate his success in getting Vin to listen to him. Unfortunately, Ruin was watching for him now. Each time Kelsier got close, Ruin interfered, surrounding him, holding him back. Choking him with black smoke and driving him away.

Ruin seemed amused to keep Kelsier around the periphery of Vin’s camp outside Fadrex, and didn’t drive him away. But anytime Kelsier tried to speak directly with her, Ruin punished him. Like a parent slapping a child’s hand for getting too close to the flame.

It was infuriating, more so because of the way Ruin’s words dug at him. Everything Kelsier had accomplished had merely been part of this thing’s master plan to be freed. And the creature did have some kind of hold on Vin. It could appear to her, as reinforced by how it led her away from the camp one day, in a sudden motion that confused Kelsier.

He tried to follow, running after the phantom that Ruin had made. It bounded like a Mistborn and Vin followed, obviously convinced that she’d discovered a spy. They left the camp behind entirely.

Kelsier slowed, feeling useless, standing on the misty ground outside the city and watching them vanish into the distance. She could sense that thing, and as long as it was here it overshadowed Kelsier. He’d never be able to speak with her.

Ruin’s reason for leading Vin away soon manifested. Something launched an assault on Vin and Elend’s army of koloss. Kelsier figured it out from the bustling of the camp, and was able to reach the scene faster than the people in the Physical Realm. It looked like siege equipment had been rolled out onto a ridge above where the koloss camped.

It rained down death upon the beasts. Kelsier couldn’t do anything but watch as the sudden attack killed thousands of them. He couldn’t feel any real regret when the koloss were destroyed, but it did seem a waste.

The koloss raged in frustration, unable to reach their enemy. Curiously, their souls started to appear in the Cognitive Realm.

And they were human.

Not koloss at all, but people, dressed in a variety of outfits. Many were skaa, but there were soldiers, merchants, and even nobility among them. Both male and female.

Kelsier gaped. He had never quite known what koloss were, but he had not expected this. Common people, made beasts somehow? He rushed among the dying souls as they faded.

“What happened to you,” he demanded of one woman. “How did this happen to you?”

She regarded him with a bemused expression. “Where,” she said, “where am I?”

In a moment she was gone. It seemed the transition was too much of a shock. The others showed similar confusion, holding out their hands as if surprised to find themselves human again – though not a few seemed relieved. Kelsier watched as thousands of these figures appeared, then faded away. It was a slaughter on the other side, stones crashing down all around. One passed right through Kelsier before rolling away, breaking bodies.

He could use this, but he would need something specific. Not a skaa peasant, or even a crafty lord. He needed someone who…

There.

He dashed through fading spirits and dodged between the glowing souls of creatures not yet dead, making for a particular spirit who had just appeared. Bald, with tattoos circling his eyes. An obligator. This man seemed less surprised by events, and more resigned. By the time Kelsier arrived, the lanky obligator was already starting to stretch away.

“How?” Kelsier demanded, counting on the obligator to understand more about the koloss. “How did this happen to you?”

“I don’t know,” the man said.

Kelsier felt his heart sink.

“The beasts,” the man continued, “should have known better than to take an obligator! I was their keeper, and they did this to me? This world is ruined.”

Should have known better? Kelsier clutched the obligator’s shoulder as the man stretched toward nothingness. “How? Please, how is it done? Men become koloss?”

The obligator looked to him and, vanishing, said one word.

“Spikes.”

Kelsier gaped again. Around him on the misty plain, souls blazed bright, flashed, and were dumped into this Realm – before finally fading to nothing. Like human bonfires being extinguished.

Spikes. Like Inquisitor spikes?

He walked to the slumped-over corpses of the dead and knelt, inspecting them. Yes, he could see it. Metal glowed on this side, and among those corpses were little spikes – like embers, small but glowing fiercely.

They were much harder to make out on the living koloss, because of the way the soul blazed, but it seemed to him that the spikes pierced into the soul. Was that the secret? He shouted at a pair of koloss, and they looked toward him, then glanced about, confused.

The spikes transform them, Kelsier thought, like Inquisitors. Is that how they’re controlled? Through piercings in the soul?

What of madmen? Were their souls cracked open, allowing something similar? Troubled, he left the field and its dying, although the battle – or rather the slaughter – seemed to be ending.

Kelsier crossed the misty field outside Fadrex, then lingered out here alone, away from the souls of men until Vin returned, trailed by a shadow she didn’t seem to know was there this time. She passed by, then disappeared into the camp.

Kelsier settled down near one of the little tendrils of Preservation, and touched it. “He has his fingers in everything, doesn’t he, Fuzz?”

“Yes,” Preservation said, his voice frail, tiny. “See.”

Something appeared in Kelsier’s mind, a sequence of images: Inquisitors listening with heads raised toward Ruin’s voice. Vin in the creature’s shadow. A man he didn’t know sitting on a burning throne and watching Luthadel, a twisted smile on his lips.

Then, little Lestibournes. Spook wore a burned cloak that seemed too big for him, and Ruin crouched nearby, whispering with Kelsier’s own voice into the poor lad’s ear.

After him, Kelsier saw Marsh standing among falling ash, spiked eyes staring sightlessly across the landscape. He didn’t seem to be moving; the ash was piling up on his shoulders and head.

Marsh… Seeing his brother like that made Kelsier sick. Kelsier’s plan had required Marsh to join the obligators. He had deduced what must have happened next. Marsh’s Allomancy had been noticed, as had the fervent way he lived his life.

Passion and care. Marsh had never been as capable as Kelsier. But he had always, always been a better man.

Preservation showed him dozens of others, mostly people in power leading their followers to doom, laughing and dancing as ash piled high and crops withered in the mists. Each one was a person either pierced by metal or influenced by people around them who were pierced by metal. He should have made the connection back at the Well of Ascension, when he’d seen in the pulses that Ruin could speak to Marsh and the other Inquisitors.

Metal. It was the key to everything.

“So much destruction,” Kelsier whispered at the visions. “We can’t survive this, can we? Even if we stop Ruin, we are doomed.”

“No,” Preservation said. “Not doomed. Remember… hope, Kelsier. You said, I… I… am…”

“I am hope,” Kelsier whispered.

“I cannot save you. But we must trust.”

“In what?”

“In the man I was. In the… the plan… The sign… and the Hero…”

“Vin. He has her, Fuzz.”

“He doesn’t know as much as he thinks,” Preservation whispered. “That is his weakness. The… weakness… of all clever men…”

“Except me, of course.”

Preservation had enough spark left to chuckle at that, which did Kelsier some good. He stood up, dusting off his clothing. Which was somewhat pointless, seeing as how there was no dust here – not to mention no actual clothing. “Come now, Fuzz, when have you known me to be wrong?”

“Well, there was–”

“Those don’t count. I wasn’t fully myself back then.”

“And… when did you become… fully yourself?”

“Only just now,” Kelsier said.

“You could… you could use that excuse… anytime….”

“Now you’re catching on, Fuzz.” Kelsier put his hands on his hips. “We use the plan you set in motion when you were sane, eh? All right then. How can I help?”

“Help? I… I don’t…”

“No, be decisive. Bold! A good crewleader is always sure of himself, even when he isn’t. Especially when he isn’t.”

“That doesn’t make… sense….”

“I’m dead. I don’t need to make sense anymore. Ideas? You’re crewleader now.”

“… Me?”

“Sure. Your plan. You’re in charge. I mean, you are a god. That should count for something, I suppose.”

“Thank you for… finally… acknowledging that….”

Kelsier deliberated, then set his pack on the ground. “You’re sure this can’t help? It builds links between people and gods. I’d think it could heal you or something.”

“Oh, Kelsier,” Preservation said. “I’ve told you that I am dead already. You cannot… save me. Save my… successor instead.”

“Then I will give it to Vin. Would that help?”

“No. You must tell… her. You can reach… through the gaps in souls… when I cannot. Tell her that she must not trust… pierced by metal. You must free her to take… my power. All of it.”

“Right,” Kelsier said, tucking away the glass globe. “Free Vin. Easy.”

He just had to find a way past Ruin.

3

“So, Midge,” Kelsier whispered to the dozing man. “You got that?”

“Mission…” the scruffy soldier mumbled. “Survivor…”

“You can’t trust anyone pierced by metal,” Kelsier said. “Tell her that. Those exact words. It’s a mission for you from the Survivor.”

The man snorted awake; he was supposed to have been on watch, and he stumbled to his feet as his replacement approached. Kelsier regarded the glowing beings, anxious. It had taken precious days – during which Ruin had kept him far from Vin – to search out someone in the army who was touched in the head, someone with that distinctive soul of madness.

It wasn’t that they were broken, as he had once guessed. They were merely… open. This man, Midge, seemed perfect. He responded to Kelsier’s words, but he wasn’t so unhinged that the others ignored him.

Kelsier followed Midge eagerly through camp to one of the cookfires, where Midge started chatting, animatedly, with the others there.

Tell them, Kelsier thought. Spread the news through camp. Let Vin hear it.

Midge continued speaking. Others stood up around the fire. They were listening! Kelsier touched Midge, trying to hear what he was saying. He couldn’t make it out though, until a thread of Preservation touched him – then the words started to vibrate through his soul, faintly audible to his ears.

“That’s right,” Midge said. “He talked to me. Said I’m special. Said we shouldn’t trust none of you. I’m holy, and you just ain’t.”

“What?” Kelsier snapped. “Midge, you idiot.”

It went downhill from there. Kelsier stepped back as men around the cookfire squabbled and started shoving one another, then they began a full-on brawl. With a sigh, Kelsier settled down on the misty shadow of a boulder and watched several days’ worth of work evaporate.

Someone laid a hand on his shoulder, and he glanced toward Ruin, who had appeared there.

“Careful,” Kelsier said, “you’ll get you on my shirt.”

Ruin chuckled. “I was worried, leaving you alone, Kelsier. But it seems you’ve been serving me well in my absence.” One of the brawlers punched Demoux right across the face, and Ruin winced. “Nice.”

“Needs to follow through more,” Kelsier mumbled. “You need to really commit to a punch.”

Ruin smiled a deep, knowing, insufferable smile. Hell, Kelsier thought. I hope that’s not what I look like.

“You must realize by now, Kelsier,” Ruin said, “that anything you do, I will counter. Struggle serves only Ruin.”

Elend Venture arrived on the scene, gliding on a Steelpush that Kelsier envied, looking properly regal. That boy had grown into more of a man than Kelsier had ever expected he would. Despite that stupid beard.

Kelsier frowned. “Where is Vin?”

“Hm?” Ruin said. “Oh, I have her.”

“Where?” Kelsier demanded.

“Away. Where I can keep her in hand.” He leaned toward Kelsier. “Good job wasting time on the madman.” He vanished.

I absolutely hate that man, Kelsier thought. Ruin… he was no more impressive, deep down, than Preservation was. Hell, Kelsier thought, I’m better at this god stuff than they are. At least he had inspired people.

Including Midge and the rest of the brawlers, unfortunately. Kelsier stood up from the rock and finally acknowledged a fact he’d been wanting to avoid. He couldn’t do anything here, not with Ruin so focused on Vin and Elend right now. Kelsier had to get to someone else. Sazed maybe? Or perhaps Marsh. If he could get through to his brother while Ruin was distracted…

He had to hope that the wards on that orb would shade him from the dark god’s eyes, as they had when Kelsier had first arrived at Fadrex. He needed to leave this place, strike out, lose Ruin’s interest and then try to contact Marsh or Spook, get them to relay a message to Vin.

It hurt him to leave her behind in Ruin’s clutches, but there was nothing more he could do.

Kelsier left that very hour.

4

Kelsier was nowhere in particular when God finally died.

He couldn’t place the location. No town nearby, at least not one that hadn’t been buried in ash. He had intended to head toward Luthadel, but with all the landmarks covered over – and with no sun to guide him – he wasn’t certain he’d been going the right direction.

The land trembled, the misty ground quivering. Kelsier pulled up short, looking at the sky, at first expecting that Ruin was causing this tremor.

Then he felt it. Perhaps it was the small Connection he had to Preservation from his time at the Well of Ascension. Or maybe it was the piece inside him that the god had placed, the piece inside them all. The light of the soul.

Whatever the reason, Kelsier felt the end like a long, drawn-out sigh. It sent a chill up his spine, and he scrambled to find a thread of Preservation. They had been all over the ground earlier in his trip, but now he found nothing.

“Fuzz!” he screamed. “Preservation!”

Kelsier… The voice vibrated through him. Goodbye.

“Hell, Fuzz,” Kelsier said, searching the sky. “I’m sorry. I…” He swallowed.

Odd, the voice said. After all these years appearing for others as they died, I never expected… that my own passing would be so cold and lonely….

“I’m here for you,” Kelsier said.

No. You weren’t. Kelsier, he’s splitting my power. He’s breaking it apart. It will be gone… Splintered…. He’ll destroy it.

“Like hell he will,” Kelsier said, dropping his pack. He reached inside, gripping the glowing orb filled with liquid.

It’s not for you, Kelsier, Preservation said. It’s not yours. It belongs to another.

“I’ll get it to her,” Kelsier said, taking up the sphere. He drew in a deep breath, then used Nazh’s knife to smash the orb, spraying his arm and body with the glowing liquid.

Lines like threads burst out from him. Glowing, effulgent. Like the lines from burning steel or iron, except they pointed at everything.

Kelsier! Preservation said, his voice strengthening. Do better than you have before! They called you their god, and you were casual with their faith! The hearts of men are NOT YOUR TOYS.

“I…” Kelsier licked his lips. “I understand. My lord.”

Do better, Kelsier, Preservation commanded, his voice fading. If the end comes, get them below ground. It might help. And remember… remember what I told you, so long ago…. Do what I cannot, Kelsier….

SURVIVE.

The word vibrated through him, and Kelsier gasped. He knew that feeling, remembered that exact command. He’d heard that voice in the Pits. Waking him, driving him forward.

Saving him.

Kelsier bowed his head as he felt Preservation fade, finally, and stretch into the darkness.

Then, full of borrowed light, Kelsier seized the threads spinning around him and Pulled. The power resisted. He didn’t know why – he had only a rudimentary understanding of what he was doing. Why did the power attune to some people and not others?

Well, he’d Pulled on stubborn anchors before. He yanked with all his might, drawing the power toward him. It struggled, defying him almost like it was alive… until…

It broke, flooding into him.

And Kelsier, the Survivor of Death, Ascended.

With a cry of exultation, he felt the power flow through him, like Allomancy a hundred times over. A feverish, molten, burning energy that washed through his soul. He laughed, rising into the air, expanding, becoming everywhere and everything.

What is this? Ruin’s voice demanded.

Kelsier found himself confronted by the opposing god, their forms extending into eternity – one the icy coolness of life frozen, unmoving. The other the scribbling, crumbling, violent blackness of decay. Kelsier grinned as he felt utter and complete shock from Ruin.

“What was it,” Kelsier asked, “that you said before? Anything I can do, you will counter? How about this?”

Ruin raged, power flaring in a cyclone of anger. The persona cracked apart, revealing the thing, the raw energy that had plotted and planned for so long, only to be stopped now. Kelsier’s grin widened, and he imagined – with delight – the sensation of ripping apart this monster that had killed Preservation. This useless, outdated waste of energy. Crushing it would be so satisfying. He willed his boundless power to attack.

And nothing happened.

Preservation’s power resisted him still. It shied away from his murderous intent, and push though he would, he couldn’t make it hurt Ruin.

His enemy vibrated, quivering, and the shaking became a sound like laughter. The churning dark mists recovered, transforming back into the image of a deific man stretching through the sky. “Oh, Kelsier!” Ruin cried. “You think I mind what you have done? Why, I’d have chosen for you to take the power! It’s perfect! You’re merely an aspect of me, after all.”

Kelsier gritted his teeth, then stretched forth fingers made of rushing wind, as if to grab Ruin and throttle him.

The creature merely laughed louder. “You can barely control it,” Ruin said. “Even assuming it could harm me, you couldn’t accomplish such a task. Look at you, Kelsier! You haven’t form or shape. You’re not alive, you’re an idea. A memory of a man holding the power will never be as potent as a real one with ties to all three Realms.”

Ruin shoved him aside with ease, though Kelsier felt a crackling at the thing’s touch. These powers reacted to one another like flame and water. That made Kelsier certain there was a way to use the power he held to destroy Ruin. If he could figure it out.

Ruin turned his attention from Kelsier, and so Kelsier took to trying to acquaint himself with the power. Unfortunately, each thing he tried was met with resistance – both from Ruin’s energy and from the power of Preservation itself. He could see himself now, in the Spiritual Realm – and those black lines were still there, tying him to Ruin.

The power he held didn’t like that at all. It tumbled inside him, churning, trying to break free. He could hold on, but he knew that if he let go, it would escape him and he would never be able to recapture it.

Still, it was grand to be more than just a spirit. He could see into the Physical Realm again, though metal continued to glow brightly to his eyes. It was a relief to be able to see something other than misty shadows and glowing souls.

He wished that view were more encouraging. Endless seas of ash. Very few cities, dug out like craters. Burning mountains that spewed not only ash, but lava and brimstone. The land had cracked, creating rifts.

He tried not to think of that, but of the people. He could feel them, like he felt the very crust and core of the planet. He easily found which ones had souls that were open to him, and eagerly he swung down in. Surely among these he could find one who could deliver a message to Vin.

Yet they didn’t seem to be able to hear him, no matter how he whispered to them. It was frustrating and baffling. He held the powers of eternity. How could he have lost the ability he’d had before, the ability to communicate with his people?

Around him, Ruin laughed.

“You think your predecessor didn’t try that?” Ruin asked. “Your power cannot leak through those cracks, Preservation. It tries too hard to shore them up, to protect them. Only I can widen cracks.”

Whether his reasoning was correct or not, Kelsier couldn’t tell. But he did confirm time and time again that madmen could no longer hear him.

However, now he could hear people.

Everyone, not just the mad. He could hear their thoughts like voices – their hopes, their worries, their terrors. If he focused too long on them, directed his attention to a city, the multitude of thoughts threatened to overwhelm him. It was a buzz, a rush, and he found it difficult to separate individuals from the mess.

Above it all – land, cities, ash – hung the mists. They coated everything, even in the daytime. While trapped entirely in the Cognitive Realm, he hadn’t seen how pervasive they were.

That’s power, he thought, gazing upon it. My power. I should be able to hold that, manipulate it.

He couldn’t. That left Ruin far stronger than he was. Why had Preservation left the mists untouched like that? It was still part of him, of course, but it was like… like a diffused army, spread as scouts throughout the kingdom, rather than gathered for war.

Ruin wasn’t so inhibited. Kelsier could see his power at work now, revealed in ways that had been too grand for him to recognize before Ascending. Ruin ripped open the tops of ashmounts, holding them pried apart, letting death spew forth. He touched koloss all across the empire, driving them to murderous frenzies. When they ran out of people to kill, he gleefully turned them against one another.

He had hold of multiple people in every remaining city. His machinations were incredible – complex, subtle. Kelsier couldn’t even follow all the threads, but the result was obvious: chaos.

Kelsier could do nothing about it. He held unimaginable power, yet he was still impotent. But importantly, Ruin had to act to counter him.

That was an important revelation. He and Ruin were both everywhere; their souls were the very bones of the planet. But their attention… that could only be divided so far.

If Kelsier tried to change things where Ruin was focused, he always lost. When Kelsier tried to stop the ashmounts, Ruin’s arms ripping them open were stronger than his trying to seal them. When he tried to bolster Vin’s armies with a sense of encouragement, Ruin acted like a blockade, keeping him away.

In a desperate attempt, he made a push to approach Vin herself. He wasn’t certain what he could do, but he wanted to try battering Ruin away – push himself, and see what he was capable of doing.

He threw everything he had into it, straining against Ruin – feeling the friction of their essences meeting as he drew nearer to Vin, who was locked in a room within the palace of Fadrex. His essence meeting Ruin’s caused shocks through the land, trembles. An earthquake.

He was able to draw close. He could feel Vin’s mind, hear her thoughts. She knew so little – like he had known so little when he’d begun this. She didn’t know about Preservation.

The clashing pushed Kelsier’s essence away, ripping Preservation back from him, exposing his core – like a grinning skull as the flesh was torn free. A soul lined with darkness, but which was Connected to Vin somehow. Tied to her by the inscrutable lines that made up the Spiritual Realm.

“Vin!” he shouted, in agony, straining. The fight between him and Ruin caused the earthquake to intensify, and Ruin exulted in that destruction. It weakened his attention for a brief moment.

“Vin!” Kelsier said, getting closer. “Another god, Vin! There’s another force!”

Confusion. She didn’t see. Something leaked from Kelsier, drawing toward her. And with a shock, Kelsier saw a terrible sight, something he’d never suspected. A glowing spot of metal in Vin’s ear, so similar to the color of her brilliant soul that he had missed it until he’d gotten very close.

Vin was spiked.

“What’s the first rule of Allomancy, Vin!” Kelsier screamed. “The first thing I taught you!”

Vin looked up. Had she heard?

“Spikes, Vin!” Kelsier began. “You can’t trust–”

Ruin returned and shoved Kelsier with a fierce burst of power, interrupting him. To hold on longer would have meant letting Ruin rip the power of Preservation away from him completely, and so he let himself go.

Ruin shoved him out of the building, out of the city entirely. Their clash brought incredible pain to Kelsier, and he couldn’t help bearing the impression that – divine though he was – he was limping as he left the city.

Ruin was too focused on this place. Too strong here. He had almost all of his attention pointed at Vin and this city of Fadrex. He was even bringing in Marsh.

Maybe…

Kelsier tried to get close to Marsh, focusing his attention on his brother. Those same lines were there as had been with Vin, lines of Connection linking Kelsier’s soul to his brother. Perhaps he could get through to Marsh too.

Unfortunately, Ruin spotted this too easily, and Kelsier was too weakened – too sore – from the previous clash. Ruin rebuffed him with ease, but not before Kelsier heard something emanating from Marsh.

Remember yourself, Marsh’s thoughts whispered. Fight, Marsh, FIGHT. Remember who you are.

Kelsier felt a swelling of pride as he fled from Ruin. Something within Marsh, something of his brother, had survived. However, there was nothing Kelsier could do to help now. Whatever Ruin wanted in Fadrex, Kelsier would have to let him have it. To confront Ruin here was impossible, for Ruin could best Kelsier in a direct confrontation.

Fortunately, Kelsier had made a career of knowing when to avoid a fair fight. The con was on, and when the house guard was alert, your best bet was to lie low for a while.

Ruin watched Fadrex so intently, it would leave chinks elsewhere.

5

Do better, Kelsier.

He watched and waited. He could be careful.

The hearts of men are not your toys.

He floated, becoming the mists, observing how Ruin moved his pieces. The Inquisitors were his primary hands. Ruin positioned them deliberately.

The weakness of all clever men.

An opening. Kelsier needed an opening.

Survive.

Ruin thought he was in control all across the Final Empire. So sure of himself. But there were holes. He was devoting less and less attention to the broken city of Urteau, with its empty canals and starving people. One of his threads revolved around a young man who wore cloth wrapping his eyes and a burned cloak on his back.

Yes, Ruin thought he had this city in hand.

But Kelsier… Kelsier knew that boy.

Kelsier focused his attention on Spook as the young man – overwhelmed and driven to the brink of madness – stumbled onto a stage before a crowd. Ruin had driven him to this point by wearing Kelsier’s form. He was trying to make an Inquisitor of the boy, while at the same time setting up the city to burn in riots and bedlam.

But his actions in this city were like so many others. His attention was too divided, with his only real focus on Fadrex. He worked in Urteau, but didn’t prioritize it. He’d already set his plans in motion: Ruin the hopes of this people, burn the city to the ground. All it required was for a confused boy to commit a murder.

Spook stood onstage, prepared to kill in front of the crowd. Kelsier drew his attention in like a puff of mist, careful, quiet. He was the pulsing of the boards beneath Spook’s feet, he was the air being breathed, he was the flame and fire.

Ruin was here, raging, demanding that Spook murder. It wasn’t the careful, smiling persona. This was a purer, rawer form of the power. This piece of him had little of Ruin’s attention, and he hadn’t brought his full power to bear.

It didn’t notice Kelsier as he drew back from the power, exposing his own soul and drawing it close to Spook. Those lines were there, the lines of familiarity, family, and Connection. Strangely, they were even stronger for Spook than they’d been for Marsh and Vin. Why would that be?

Now, you must kill her, Ruin said to Spook.

Under that anger, Kelsier whispered to Spook’s broken soul. Hope.

You want power, Spook? Ruin thundered. You want to be a better Allomancer? Well, power must come from somewhere. It is never free. This woman is a Coinshot. Kill her, and you can have her ability. I will give it to you.

Hope, Kelsier said.

Back and forth. Kill. Ruin sent impressions, words. Murder, destroy. Ruin.

Hope.

Spook reached for the metal at his chest.

No! Ruin shouted, sounding shocked. Spook, do you want to go back to being normal? Do you want to be useless again? You’ll lose your pewter, and go back to being weak, like you were when you let your uncle die!

Spook looked at Ruin, grimaced, then cut into his body and pulled the spike free.

Hope.

Ruin screamed in denial, his figure fuzzing, spider leg knives spearing out of the broken shape he wore. Destruction sprouted from the figure and became black mist.

Spook sank down onto the platform, slumping to his knees, then fell forward. Kelsier knelt and held him, drawing Preservation’s power back to himself. “Oh, Spook,” he whispered. “You poor, poor child.”

He could feel the youth’s spirit sputtering. Broken. Cracked through to the core. The boy’s thoughts drifted to Kelsier. Thoughts of a woman he loved. Thoughts of his own failures. Confused thoughts.

Deep down, this boy had been following Ruin because he’d wished so desperately for Kelsier to guide him. He’d tried so hard to be like Kelsier himself.

It twisted Kelsier about, seeing the faith of this youth. Faith in him. Kelsier, the Survivor.

A pretend god.

“Spook,” Kelsier whispered, touching Spook’s soul with his own again. He choked on the words, but forced them out. “Spook, her city is burning.”

Spook trembled.

“Thousands will die in the flames,” Kelsier whispered. He touched the boy’s cheek. “Spook, child. You want to be like me? Really like me? Then fight when you are beaten!”

Kelsier looked up at the spiraling, churning form of Ruin, angered. More of Ruin’s attention was focusing this direction. It would soon rebuff Kelsier.

Beating it here was only a small victory, but it was proof. This thing could be resisted. Spook had done it.

And would do it again.

Kelsier looked down at the child in his arms. No, not a child any longer. He opened himself to Spook, and spoke a single, all-powerful command.

“Survive!”

Spook screamed, burning his metal, startling himself to lucidity. Kelsier stood up, triumphant. Spook lurched to his knees, his spirit strengthening.

“Whatever you do,” Ruin said to Kelsier, as if seeing him there for the first time, “I counter.”

The force of destruction exploded outward, sending tendrils of darkness into the city. He didn’t push Kelsier away. Kelsier wasn’t certain if that was because his attention was still too focused elsewhere, or if he just didn’t care whether Kelsier stayed to witness the end of this city.

Fires. Death. Kelsier saw the thing’s plan in a flashing moment: burn this city to the ground, extinguish all signs of Ruin’s failure. End the people here.

Spook was already moving, confronting the people around him, giving orders as if he were the Lord Ruler himself. And was that…

Sazed!

Kelsier felt a comforting warmth upon seeing the quiet Terrisman stepping up to Spook. Sazed always had answers. But here he looked haggard, confused, exhausted.

“Oh, my friend,” Kelsier whispered. “What has he done to you?”

The group obeyed Spook’s orders, rushing off. Spook lagged behind them, walking down the street. Kelsier could see the threads of the future, in the Spiritual Realm. Coated in darkness, a city destroyed. Possibilities ending.

But a few lines of light remained. Yes, it was still possible. First this boy had to save his city.

“Spook,” Kelsier said, forming himself a body of power. Nobody could see him, but that didn’t matter. He fell into step beside Spook, who practically stumbled along. One foot after the other, barely moving.

“Keep moving,” Kelsier encouraged. He could feel this man’s pain, his anguish and confusion. His faith battered. And somehow, through Connection, Kelsier could talk to him as he’d not been able to do to others.

Kelsier shared in Spook’s exhaustion with each trembling, agonized step. He whispered the words over and over. Keep moving. It became a mantra. Spook’s young woman arrived, helping him. Kelsier walked on his other side. Keep moving.

Blessedly, he did. Somehow the exhausted young man stumbled all the way to a burning building. He stopped outside, where Sazed had been forced to shy away. Kelsier read their attitudes in the slump of their shoulders, the fear in their eyes, reflecting flames. He heard their thoughts, pulsing from them, quiet and afraid.

This city was doomed, and they knew it.

Spook let the others pull him back from the fires. Emotions, memories, ideas rose from the boy.

Kelsier didn’t care about me, Spook thought. He didn’t think of me. He remembered the others, but not me. Gave them jobs to do. I didn’t matter to him….

“I named you, Spook,” Kelsier whispered. “You were my friend. Isn’t that enough?”

Spook stopped in place, pulling against the grip of the others.

“I’m sorry,” Kelsier said, weeping, “for what you must do. Survivor.”

Spook pulled from the grip of the others. And as Ruin raged above, sputtering and screaming – finally bringing in his attention to begin forcing Kelsier back – this young man entered the flames.

And saved the city.

6

Kelsier sat on a strange, verdant field. Green grass everywhere. So odd. So beautiful.

Spook walked over and settled down next to him. The boy removed the cloth from his eyes and shook his head, then ran his fingers through his hair. “What is this?”

“Half dream,” Kelsier said, plucking a piece of grass and chewing on it.

“Half dream?” Spook asked.

“You’re almost dead, kid,” Kelsier said. “Smashed your spirit up pretty good. Lots of cracks.” He smiled. “That let me in.”

There was more to it. This young man was special. At the very least, their relationship was special. Spook believed in him as no other had.

Kelsier thought on this as he plucked another piece of grass and chewed on it.

“What are you doing?” Spook asked.

“It looks so strange,” Kelsier said. “Like Mare always said it would.”

“So you’re eating it?”

“Chewing it, mostly,” Kelsier said, then spat it to the side. “Just curious.”

Spook puffed in and out. “Doesn’t matter. None of this matters. You’re not real.”

“Well, that’s partially right,” Kelsier said. “I’m not completely real. Haven’t been since I died. But then I’m also a god now… I think. It’s complicated.”

Spook looked at him, frowning.

“I needed someone I could chat with,” Kelsier said. “I needed you. Someone who was broken, but who had resisted him.”

“The other you.”

Kelsier nodded.

“You always were so harsh, Kelsier,” Spook said, staring out over the rolling green fields. “I could see that deep down, you really hated the nobility. I thought that hatred was why you were so strong.”

“Strong like scar tissue,” Kelsier whispered. “Functional, but stiff. It’s a strength I’d rather you never need.”

Spook nodded, and seemed to understand.

“I’m proud of you, kid,” Kelsier said, giving him a fond punch to the arm.

“I almost ruined everything,” he said, eyes downcast.

“Spook, if you knew how many times I’ve almost destroyed a city, you’d be embarrassed to talk like that. Hell, you barely even broke that place. They’ve put out the fires, rescued most of the population. You’re a hero.”

Spook looked up, smiling.

“Here’s the thing, kid,” Kelsier said. “Vin doesn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“The spikes, Spook. I can’t get the message to her. She needs to know. And Spook, she… she has a spike in her too.”

“Lord Ruler…” Spook whispered. “Vin?”

Kelsier nodded. “Listen to me. You’re going to wake soon. I need you to remember this part, even if you forget everything else about the dream. When the end comes, get people underground. Send a message to Vin. Scratch the message in metal, for anything not set in metal cannot be trusted.

“Vin needs to know about Ruin and his false faces. She needs to know about the spikes, that metal buried within a person lets Ruin whisper to them. Remember it, Spook. Don’t trust anyone pierced by metal! Even the smallest bit can taint a man.”

Spook began to fuzz, waking.

“Remember,” Kelsier said. “Vin is hearing Ruin. She doesn’t know who to trust, and that’s why you absolutely must get that message sent, Spook. The pieces of this thing are all spinning about, cast to the wind. You have a clue that nobody else does. Send it flying for me.”

Spook nodded as he woke up.

“Good lad,” Kelsier whispered, smiling. “You did well, Spook. I’m proud.”

7

A man left Urteau, forging outward through the mists and the ash, starting the long trip toward Luthadel.

Kelsier didn’t know this man, Goradel, personally. However, the power knew him. Knew how he’d joined the Lord Ruler’s guards as a youth, hoping for a better life for himself and his family. This was a man whom Kelsier, if he’d been given the chance, would have killed without mercy.

Now Goradel might just save the world. Kelsier soared behind him, feeling the anticipation of the mists build. Goradel carried a metal plate bearing the secret.

Ruin rolled across the land like a shadow, dominating Kelsier. He laughed as he saw Goradel fighting through the ash, piled as high as snow in the mountains.

“Oh, Kelsier,” Ruin said. “This is the best you can do? All that work with the child in Urteau, for this?”

Kelsier grunted as tendrils of Ruin’s power sought out a pair of hands and brought them calling. In the real world hours passed, but to the eyes of gods time was a mutable thing. It flowed as you wished it to.

“Did you ever play card tricks, Ruin?” Kelsier asked. “Back when you were a common man?”

“I was never a common man,” Ruin said. “I was but a Vessel awaiting my power.”

“So what did that Vessel do with its time?” Kelsier asked. “Play card tricks?”

“Hardly,” Ruin said. “I was a far better man than that.”

Kelsier groaned as Ruin’s hands eventually arrived, soaring high through the falling ash. A figure with spikes through his eyes, lips drawn back in a sneer.

“I was pretty good at card tricks,” Kelsier said softly, “when I was a child. My first cons were with cards. Not three-card spin; that was too simple. I preferred the tricks where it was you, a deck of cards, and a mark who was watching your every move.”

Below, Marsh struggled with – then finally slaughtered – the hapless Goradel. Kelsier winced as his brother didn’t just murder, but reveled in the death, driven to madness by Ruin’s taint. Strangely, Ruin worked to hold him back. As if in the moment, he’d lost control of Marsh.

Ruin was careful not to let Kelsier get too close. He couldn’t even draw near enough to hear his brother’s thoughts. Ruin laughed as, awash in the gore of the murder, Marsh finally retrieved the letter Spook had sent.

“You think,” Ruin said, “you’re so clever, Kelsier. Words in metal. I can’t read them, but my minion can.”

Kelsier sank down as Marsh felt at the plate Spook had ordered carved, reading the words out loud for Ruin to hear. Kelsier formed a body for himself and knelt in the ash, slumping forward, beaten.

Ruin formed beside him. “It’s all right, Kelsier. This is the way things were meant to be. The reason they were created! Do not mourn the deaths that come to us; celebrate the lives that have passed.”

He patted Kelsier, then evaporated. Marsh stumbled to his feet, ash sticking to the still-wet blood on his clothing and face. He then leaped after Ruin, following his master’s call. The end was approaching quickly now.

Kelsier knelt by the corpse of the fallen man, who was slowly being covered in ash. Vin had spared him, and Kelsier had gotten him killed after all. He reached into the Cognitive Realm, where the man’s spirit had stumbled in the place of mist and shadows, and was now looking skyward.

Kelsier approached and clasped the man’s hand. “Thank you,” he said. “And I’m sorry.”

“I’ve failed,” Goradel said as he stretched away.

It twisted Kelsier inside, but he didn’t dare contradict the man. Forgive me.

Now, to be quiet. Kelsier let himself drift again, spread out. No longer did he try to stop Ruin’s influence. In withdrawing, he saw that he had been helping a tiny bit. He’d held back some earthquakes, slowed the flow of lava. An insignificant amount, but at least he’d done something.

Now he let it go and gave Ruin free rein. The end accelerated, twisting about the motions of one young woman, who arrived back in Luthadel at the advent of a storm.

Kelsier closed his eyes, feeling the world hush, as if the land itself were holding its breath. Vin fought, danced, and pushed herself to the limits of her abilities – and then beyond. She stood against Ruin’s assembled might of Inquisitors, and fought with such majesty that Kelsier was astonished. She was better than the Inquisitor he’d fought, better than any man he’d seen. Better than Kelsier himself.

Unfortunately, against an entire murder of Inquisitors, it was not nearly enough.

Kelsier forced himself to hold back. And hell, was it difficult. He let Ruin reign, let his Inquisitors beat Vin to submission. The fight was over too soon, and ended with Vin broken and defeated, at Marsh’s mercy.

Ruin stepped close, whispering to her. Where is the atium, Vin? he said. What do you know of it?

Atium? Kelsier drew himself near as Marsh knelt by Vin and prepared to hurt her. Atium. Why…

It all came together for him. Ruin wasn’t complete either. There in the broken city of Luthadel – rain washing down, ash clogging the streets, Inquisitors roosting and watching with expressionless spiked eyes – Kelsier understood.

Preservation’s plan. It could work!

Marsh snapped Vin’s arm, and grinned.

Now.

Kelsier hit Ruin with the full strength of his power. It wasn’t much, and he was a poor master of it. But it was unexpected, and it drew away Ruin’s attention. The powers met, and the friction – the opposition – caused them to grind.

Pain coursed through Kelsier. The ground throughout the city trembled.

“Kelsier, Kelsier,” Ruin said.

Below, Marsh laughed.

“Do you know,” Kelsier said, “why I always won at card tricks, Ruin?”

“Please,” Ruin said. “Does this matter?”

“It’s because,” Kelsier said, grunting in pain, his power taut, “I could always. Force. People to choose. The card I wanted them to.”

Ruin paused, then looked down. The letter – delivered by Goradel not to Vin, but to Marsh – did its job.

Marsh ripped free Vin’s earring.

The world froze. Ruin, vast and immortal, looked on with complete and utter horror.

“You made the wrong one of us into your Inquisitor, Ruin,” Kelsier hissed. “You shouldn’t have picked the good brother. He always did have a nasty habit of doing what was right instead of what was smart.”

Ruin looked to Kelsier, turning his full, incredible attention on him.

Kelsier smiled. Gods, it appeared, could still fall for a classic misdirection con.

Vin reached to the mists, and Kelsier felt the power within him tremble, eager. This was what they’d been meant for; this was their purpose. He felt Vin’s yearning, and felt her question. Where had she felt this power before?

Kelsier rammed himself against Ruin, the powers clashing, exposing his soul. His darkened, battered soul.

“The power came from the Well of Ascension, of course,” Kelsier said to Vin. “It’s the same power, after all. Solid in the metal you fed to Elend. Liquid in the pool you burned. And vapor in the air, confined to night. Hiding you. Protecting you…”

Kelsier took a deep breath. He felt Preservation’s energy being ripped from him. He felt Ruin’s fury pummeling him, flaying him, ravenous to destroy him. For one last moment he felt the world. The farthest ashfall, the people in the distant south, the curling winds and the life straining – struggling – to continue on this planet.

Then Kelsier did the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

“Giving you power!” he roared to Vin, letting go of Preservation’s essence so she could take it up.

Vin drew in the mists.

And Ruin’s full fury came against Kelsier, slamming him down, ripping into his soul. Tearing him apart.

8

Kelsier was cloven asunder with a rending, pervasive pain – like that of a bone being pulled from a socket. He tumbled, unable to see or think – unable to do more than scream at the attack.

He ended up someplace surrounded by mist, blind to anything beyond its shifting. Death, for real this time? No… but he was very close. He could feel the stretching coming upon him again, coaxing him, trying to pull him toward that distant point where everyone else had gone.

He wanted to go. He hurt so much. He wanted it all to end, to go away. Everything. He just wanted it to stop.

He had felt this despair before, in the Pits of Hathsin. He didn’t have Preservation’s voice to guide him now, as he had then, but – weeping, trembling – he sank his hands into the misty expanse around him and held on. Clinging to it, refusing to go. Denying that force that called to him, promising peace and an ending.

Eventually it stilled, and the stretching sensation faded away. He had held the power of deity. The final death could not take him unless he wanted it to.

Or unless he was completely destroyed. He shuddered in the mists, thankful for their embrace, but still uncertain where he was – and uncertain why Ruin hadn’t finished the job. He’d planned to; Kelsier had felt that. Fortunately, Kelsier’s destruction had become an afterthought in the face of a new threat.

Vin. She’d done it! She’d Ascended!

Groaning, Kelsier pulled himself upward, finding he’d been hit so hard by Ruin’s attack that he’d been driven far down into the springy, misty ground of the Cognitive Realm. He was able to pull himself out, with difficulty, and collapsed onto the surface. His soul was distorted, mangled, like a body struck by a boulder. It leaked dark smoke from a thousand holes.

As he lay there it slowly reformed, and the pain – at long last – faded. Time had passed. He didn’t know how much, but it had been hours upon hours. He wasn’t in Luthadel. De-Ascending – then being crushed by Ruin’s power – had flung his soul far from the city.

He blinked phantom eyes. Above him the sky was a tempest of white and black tendrils, like clouds attacking one another. In the distance he could hear something that made the Realm tremble. He forced himself to his feet and walked, eventually cresting a hill where he saw – below – that figures made of light were locked in battle. A war, men against koloss.

Preservation’s plan. He’d seen it, understood it in those last moments. Ruin’s body was atium. The plan was to create something special and new – people who could burn away Ruin’s body in an attempt to get rid of it.

Below, men fought for their lives, and he could saw them transcending the Physical Realm because of the body of the god that they burned. Above, Ruin and Preservation clashed. Vin did a much better job of it than Kelsier had; she had the full power of the mists, and beyond that there was something natural about the way she held that power.

Kelsier dusted himself off and adjusted his clothing. Still the same shirt and trousers he’d been wearing during his fight with the Inquisitor long ago. What had happened to his pack and the knife Nazh had given him? Those were lost somewhere on the endless fields of ash between here and Fadrex.

He crossed through the battle, stepping out of the way of raging koloss and transcendent men who could see into the Spiritual Realm, if only in a very limited way.

Kelsier reached the top of a hill and stopped. On another hill beyond, distant but close enough to make out, Elend Venture stood among a pile of corpses, clashing with Marsh. Vin hovered above, expansive and incredible, a figure of glowing light and awesome power – like an inspiration for the sun and clouds.

Elend Venture raised his hand, and then exploded with light. Lines of white scattered from him in all directions, lines that drilled through all things. Lines that Connected him to Kelsier, to the future, and to the past.

He’s seeing it fully, Kelsier thought. That place between moments.

Elend ended with a sword in Marsh’s neck, and looked directly at Kelsier, transcending the three Realms.

Marsh slammed an axe into Elend’s chest.

“No!” Kelsier screamed. “No!” He stumbled down the hillside, running for Venture. He climbed over corpses, shadowy on this side, and scrambled toward where Elend had died.

He hadn’t reached the position yet when Marsh took off Elend’s head.

Oh, Vin. I’m sorry.

Vin’s full attention coursed around the fallen man. Kelsier pulled to a stop, numb. She would rage. She would lose control. She would…

Rise in glory?

He watched, awed, as Vin’s strength coalesced. There was no hatred in the thrumming that washed from her, calming all things. Above her Ruin laughed, again assuming he knew so much. That laughter cut off as Vin rose against him, a glorious, radiant spear of power – controlled, loving, compassionate, but unyielding.

Kelsier knew then why she, and not he, had needed to do this.

Vin crashed her power against Ruin’s, suffocating him. Kelsier stepped up to the top of the hill, watching, feeling a familiarity with that power. A kinship that warmed him deep within as Vin performed the ultimate act of heroism.

She brought destruction to the destroyer.

It ended in an eruption of light. Wisps of mist, both dark and white, streamed down from the sky. Kelsier smiled, knowing that at long last it was finished. In a rush, the mists swirled in twin columns, impossibly high. The powers had been released. They quivered, uncertain, like a storm brewing.

Nobody is holding them….

Kelsier reached out, timid, trembling. He could…

Elend Venture’s spirit stumbled into the Cognitive Realm beside him, tripping and collapsing to the ground. He groaned, and Kelsier grinned at him.

Elend blinked as Kelsier held out a hand. “I always imagined death,” Elend said, letting Kelsier help him to his feet, “as being greeted by everyone I’ve ever loved in life. I hadn’t imagined that would include you.”

“You need to pay better attention, kid,” Kelsier said, looking him over. “Nice uniform. Did you ask them to make you look like a cheap knockoff of the Lord Ruler, or was it more an accident?”

Elend blinked. “Wow. I hate you already.”

“Give it time,” Kelsier said, slapping him on the back. “For most that eventually fades to a sense of mild exasperation.” He looked at the power still coursing around them, then frowned as a figure made of glowing light scrambled across the field. Its shape was familiar to him. It stepped up to Vin’s corpse, which had fallen to the ground.

“Sazed,” Kelsier whispered, then touched him. He was not prepared for the rush of emotion brought on by seeing his friend in this state. Sazed was frightened. Disbelieving. Crushed. Ruin was dead, but the world was still ending. Sazed had thought that Vin would save them. Honestly, so had Kelsier.

But it seemed there was yet another secret.

“It’s him,” Kelsier whispered. “He’s the Hero.”

Elend Venture placed a hand on Kelsier’s shoulder. “You need to pay better attention,” he noted. “Kid.” He pulled Kelsier away as Sazed reached for the powers, one with each hand.

Kelsier stood in awe of the way they combined. He’d always seen these powers as opposites, yet as they swirled around Sazed it seemed that they actually belonged to one another. “How?” he whispered. “How is he Connected to them both, so evenly? Why not just Preservation?”

“He has changed, this last year,” Elend said. “Ruin is more than death and destruction. It is peace with these things.”

The transformation continued, but awesome though it was, Kelsier’s attention was drawn by something else. A coalescing of power near him on the hilltop. It formed into the shape of a young woman who slipped easily into the Cognitive Realm. She didn’t so much as stumble, which was both appropriate and horribly unfair.

Vin glanced at Kelsier and smiled. A welcoming, warm smile. A smile of joy and acceptance, which filled him with pride. How he wished he’d been able to find her earlier, when Mare was still alive. When she’d needed parents.

She went to Elend first, and seized him in a long embrace. Kelsier glanced at Sazed, who was expanding to become everything. Well, good for him. It was a tough job; Sazed could have it.

Elend nodded to Kelsier, and Vin walked over. “Kelsier,” she said to him, “oh, Kelsier. You always did make your own rules.”

Hesitant, he didn’t embrace her. He reached out his hand, feeling oddly reverent. Vin took it, the tips of her fingers curling into his palm.

Nearby another figure had coalesced from the power, but Kelsier ignored him. He stepped closer to Vin. “I…” What did he say? Hell, he didn’t know.

For once, he didn’t know.

She embraced him, and he found himself weeping. The daughter he’d never had, the little child of the streets. Though she was still small, she’d outgrown him. And she loved him anyway. He held his daughter close against his own broken soul.

“You did it,” he finally whispered. “What nobody else could have done. You gave yourself up.”

“Well,” she said, “I had such a good example, you see.”

He pulled her tight and held her for a moment longer. Unfortunately, he eventually had to let go.

Ruin stood up nearby, blinking. Or… no, it wasn’t Ruin any longer. It was just the Vessel, Ati. The man who had held the power. Ati ran his hand through his red hair, then looked about. “Vax?” he said, sounding confused.

“Excuse me,” Kelsier said to Vin, then released her and trotted over to the red-haired man.

Whereupon he decked the man across the face, laying him out completely.

“Excellent,” Kelsier said, shaking his hand. At his feet, the man looked at him, then closed his eyes and sighed, stretching away into eternity.

Kelsier walked back to the others, passing a figure in Terris robes standing with hands clasped before him, draping sleeves covering them. “Hey,” Kelsier said, then looked at the sky and the glowing figure there. “Aren’t you…”

“Part of me is,” Sazed replied. He looked to Vin and Elend and held out his hands, one toward each of them. “Thank you both for this new beginning. I have healed your bodies. You can return to them, if you wish.”

Vin looked to Elend. To Kelsier’s horror, he had begun to stretch out. He turned toward something Kelsier couldn’t see, something Beyond, and smiled, then stepped in that direction.

“I don’t think it works that way, Saze,” Vin said, then kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.” She turned, took Elend’s hand, and began to stretch toward that unseen, distant point.

“Vin!” Kelsier cried, grabbing her other hand, holding to it. “No, Vin. You held the power. You don’t have to go.”

“I know,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at him.

“Please,” Kelsier said. “Don’t go. Stay. With me.”

“Ah, Kelsier,” she said. “You have a lot to learn about love, don’t you?”

“I know love, Vin. Everything I’ve done – the fall of the empire, the power I’ve given up – that was all about love.”

She smiled. “Kelsier. You are a great man, and should be proud of what you’ve done. And you do love. I know you do. But at the same time, I don’t think you understand it.”

She turned her gaze toward Elend, who was vanishing, only his hand – in hers – still visible. “Thank you, Kelsier,” she whispered, looking back at him, “for all you have done. Your sacrifice was amazing. But to do the things you had to do, to defend the world, you had to become something. Something that worries me.

“Once, you taught me an important lesson about friendship. I need to return that lesson. A last gift. You need to know, you need to ask. How much of what you’ve done was about love, and how much was about proving something? That you hadn’t been betrayed, bested, beaten? Can you answer honestly, Kelsier?”

He met her eyes, and saw the implicit question.

How much was about us? it asked. And how much was about you?

“I don’t know,” he said to her.

She squeezed his hand and smiled – that smile she’d never have been able to give when he first found her.

That, more than anything, made him proud of her.

“Thank you,” she whispered again.

Then she let go of his hand and followed Elend into the Beyond.

9

The land shook and groaned as it died, and was reborn.

Kelsier walked it, hands shoved in his pockets. He strolled through the end of the world, power spraying in all directions, giving him visions of all three Realms.

Fires burned from the heavens. Stones crashed together, then ripped back apart. Oceans boiled, and their steam became a new mist in the air.

Still Kelsier walked. He walked as if his feet could carry him from one world to the next, from one life to the next. He didn’t feel abandoned, but he did feel alone. Like he was the only man left in all the world, and the last witness of eras.

Ash was consumed by a land of stones made liquid. Mountains crashed from the ground behind Kelsier, in rhythm to his footsteps. Rivers washed down from the heights and oceans filled. Life sprang up, trees sprouting and shooting toward the sky, making a forest around him. Then that passed, and he was in a desert, quickly drying, sand boiling from the depths of the land as Sazed created it.

A dozen different settings passed him in an eyeblink, the land growing in his wake, his shadow. 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.

He knelt and bowed his head, resting his fingers on one of them.

Sazed appeared beside him. Slowly, Kelsier’s vision of the real world faded, and he was trapped again in the Cognitive Realm. All became mist around him.

Sazed sat down next to him. “I will be honest, Kelsier. This is not the end I had in mind when I joined your crew.”

“The rebellious Terrisman,” Kelsier said. Though he was in the world of mist, he could see clouds – vaguely – in the real world. They passed beneath his feet, surging around the base of the mountain. “You were a living contradiction even then, Saze. I should have seen it.”

“I can’t bring them back,” Sazed said softly. “Not yet… perhaps not ever. The Beyond is a place I can’t reach.”

“It’s all right,” Kelsier said. “Do me a favor. Will you see what you can do for Spook? His body is in rough shape. He’s pushed it too hard. Fix him up a little? Maybe make him Mistborn while you’re at it. They’re going to need some Allomancers in the world that comes.”

“I’ll consider it,” Sazed said.

They sat there together. Two friends at the edge of the world, at the end and start of time. Eventually, Sazed stood and bowed to Kelsier. A reverent motion for one who was himself divine.

“What do you think, Saze?” Kelsier asked, staring out over the world. “Is there a way for me to get out of this, and live again in the Physical Realm?”

Sazed hesitated. “No. I do not think so.” He patted Kelsier on the shoulder, then vanished.

Huh, Kelsier thought. He holds the powers of creation in twain, a god among gods.

And he’s still a terrible liar.