Mistborn: secret history

1

Kelsier really wanted something to drink. Wasn’t that what you did when you got out of prison? Went

drinking, enjoyed your freedom by giving it up to a little booze and a terrible headache?

When alive, he’d usually avoided such levity. He liked to control a situation, not let it control him – but he

couldn’t deny that he thirsted for something to drink, to numb the experience he’d just been through.

That seemed terribly unfair. No body, but he could still be thirsty?

He climbed from the caverns surrounding the Well of Ascension, passing through misty chambers and

tunnels. As before, when he touched something he was able to see what it looked like in the real world.

His footing was firm on the inconstant ground; though it was somewhat springy, like cloth, it held his

weight unless he stamped hard – which would cause his foot to sink in like it was pushing through thick

mud. He could even pass through the walls if he tried, but it was harder than it had been during his initial

run, when he’d been dying.

He emerged from the caverns into the basement of Kredik Shaw, the Lord Ruler’s palace. It was even

easier than usual to get turned about in this place, as everything was misty to his eyes. He touched the

things of mist that he passed, so he could picture his surroundings better. A vase, a carpet, a door.

Kelsier eventually stepped out onto the streets of Luthadel a free – if dead – man. For a time he just

walked the city, so relieved to be out of that hole that he was able to ignore the sense of dread he felt at

Ruin’s escape.

He must have wandered an entire day that way, sitting on rooftops, strolling past fountains. Looking over

this city dotted with glowing pieces of metal, like lights hovering in the mists at night. He ended up on top

of the city wall, observing the koloss who had set up camp outside the town but – somehow – didn’t seem

to be killing anyone.

He needed to see if there was a way to contact his friends. Unfortunately, without the pulses – those had

stopped when Ruin escaped – to guide him, he didn’t know where to start looking. He’d lost track of Vin

and Elend in his excitement at leaving the caverns, but he remembered some of what he’d seen through

the pulses. That gave him a few places to search.

He ultimately found his crew at Keep Venture. It was the day after the disaster at the Well of Ascension,

and they appeared to be holding a funeral. Kelsier strolled through the courtyard, passing among the

glowing souls of men, each burning like a limelight. Those he brushed gave him an impression of their

appearance. Many he recognized: skaa he’d interacted with, encouraged, uplifted during his final months

of life. Others were unfamiliar. A disturbing number of soldiers who had once served the Lord Ruler.

He found Vin at the front, sitting on the steps of Keep Venture, huddled and slumped over. Elend was

nowhere to be seen, though Ham stood nearby, arms folded. In the courtyard, somebody waved their

hands before the group, giving a speech. Was that Demoux? Leading the people in the funeral service?

Those were certainly corpses laid out in the courtyard, their souls no longer shining. He couldn’t hear

what Demoux was saying, but the presentation seemed clear.

Kelsier settled down on the steps beside Vin. He clasped his hands before himself. “So… that went well.”

Vin, of course, didn’t reply.

“I mean,” Kelsier continued, “yes, we ended up releasing a world-ending force of destruction and chaos,

but at least the Lord Ruler is dead. Mission accomplished. Plus you still have your nobleman boyfriend, so

there’s that. Don’t worry about the scar on his stomach. It’ll make him look more rugged. Mists know, the

little bookworker could use some toughening up.”

She didn’t move, but maintained her slumped posture. He rested his arm across her shoulders and was

given a glimpse of her as she looked in the real world. Full of color and life, yet somehow… weathered.

---

She seemed so much older now, no longer the child he’d found scamming obligators on the streets.

He leaned down beside her. “I’m going to beat this thing, Vin. I am going take care of this.”

“And how,” Preservation said from the courtyard below the steps, “are you going to accomplish that?”

Kelsier looked up. Though he was prepared for the sight of Preservation, he still winced to see him as he

was – barely even in human shape any longer, more a dissolved bunch of weaving threads of frayed

smoke, giving the vague impression of a head, arms, legs.

“He’s free,” Preservation said. “That’s it. Time up. Contract due. He will take what was promised.”

“We’ll stop him.”

“Stop him? He’s the force of entropy, a universal constant. You can’t stop that any more than you can stop

time.”

Kelsier stood up, leaving Vin and walking down the steps toward Preservation. He wished he could hear

what Demoux was saying to this small crowd of glowing souls.

“If he can’t be stopped,” Kelsier said, “then we’ll slow him. You did it before, right? Your grand plan?”

“I…” Preservation said. “Yes… There was a plan….”

“I’m free now. I can help you put it into motion.”

“Free?” Preservation laughed. “No, you’ve just entered a larger prison. Tied to this Realm, bound to it.

There’s nothing you can do. Nothing I can do.”

“That–”

“He’s watching us, you know,” Preservation said, looking upward at the sky.

Kelsier followed his gaze reluctantly. The sky – misty and shifting – seemed so distant. It felt as if it had

pulled back from the planet, like people in a crowd shying away from a corpse. In that vastness Kelsier

saw something dark, thrashing, writhing upon itself. More solid than mist, like an ocean of snakes,

obscuring the tiny sun.

He knew that vastness. Ruin was indeed watching.

“He thinks you’re insignificant,” Preservation said. “I think he finds you amusing – the soul of Ati that is

still in there somewhere would laugh at this.”

“He has a soul?”

Preservation didn’t respond. Kelsier stepped up to him, passing corpses made of mists on the ground.

“If he is alive,” Kelsier said, “then he can be killed. No matter how powerful.” You’re proof of that, Fuzz.