Mistborn: secret history

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.

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“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.

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