It was a cold and crisp Mistwraithmas Eve in Elendel, the sun had gone down, and the mists had cloaked the world in their wet silence. But in front of a roaring hearth, Kelsier sat, smiling, a spike in his eye, in front of an entire crowd of children, as this was sometime in Era 3, and he had revealed himself openly, but many foolish Survivorists were not yet aware that he would teach their children to be anti-noble revolutionaries.

"This reminds me of my most goopiest Mistwraithmases as a young child, decades prior to the Catacendre." Kelsier said.

"Tell us! Tell us!" the children cried.

"All right, all right." Kelsier smiled.

"Back when ash fell from the sky, back when your great-great-great-great-grandparents slaved every day of their lives, and the Lord Ruler, may he rot in hell for all eternity, still lived, two boys sat by a fire, on a Mistwraithmas Eve just like this one- the mists were out, as they were every night back then. The Mistwraithmas tree was a bunch of bones tied together, as the pine trees back then were wretched and scrunkly, no good for tinsel and ornaments. There was no electric lighting back then, but our bone tree was beautiful, covered in tinsel, candles, and ornaments, with a pelvis on top." Kelsier told the group of children, who were on the edge of their seats.

"These two boys were staying up to hopefully see Kandra Klaus, something that all the older boys said they had done, although we learned later that they were just telling tall tales." Kelsier said.

"They would just tell lies for their own amusement? What kind of person would do that?" a little boy asked.

"Nobles!" Kelsier responded. "Never trust anything they say! Anyways, you may recognize these boys- one was I, the Survivor of Death, and the other was Death, although back then, we were known only as Kel and Marsh, Kelsier when mom was particularly upset. The hour was late, and the fire had died down, and the boys were listening for the sounds that would herald the arrival of Kandra Klaus. Their hearts rose with hope as they heard footfalls upon the roof, but they sank back down as they heard the plink of a coin, as it was just a Mistborn."

"They waited in the silence of the night, for the tell-tale signs of Kandra Klaus. Marsh- don't tell him I said this- had even fallen asleep, but I was preserved. And then, in the depths of the night, I heard hoofbeats upon the roof." Kelsier smiled. "Followed by more hoofbeats, footfalls, and the pounding of wings! It was Kandra Klaus, in his sleigh pulled by Goopy and Gloopy the Mistwraiths! I shook Marsh awake, and we listened as the sounds of the Mistwraiths died down. And then, we heard two heavy footfalls upon the rooftop. We ducked behind a couch, peering over to watch the hearth." Kelsier smiled as the children asked him to continue the story.

"And then we heard nothing but silence, and then the sucking sound of Kandra Klaus gooping down the chimney came out of the hearth. We waited in silence, and saw a figure, dressed in red, pop down out of the hearth, stumbling forwards, with a big sack of flesh over their shoulder, but Kandra Klaus didn't see us, instead turning towards the aged meat and mistwraith milk we had set out the night before." Kelsier said.

"Kandra Klaus then spoke, saying, 'I don't know how he does this every year. These are really fattening. Oh, is that mistwraith milk? They shouldn't have, really.' as they reached their arms onto the plate and cup, sucking up the aged meat and mistwraith milk. We were surprised, as this voice wasn't what we expected. I, ever the brave one, stood up, and said, 'You sound awfully feminine, Kandra Klaus.' Kandra Klaus turned to us, and we got a clear view of her true body supporting her clear flesh. However, we were all shocked- Kandra Klaus swore, 'Lord Ruler!' and we two ducked beneath the couch." Kelsier said, smiling.

"Kandra Klaus then sat down on the couch, taking three presents out of her sack, one red, one white, and one black. 'Kandra Klaus is busy, away on a Contact for Lord Venture, so I'm filling in for him. My name's MeLaan, and I have your presents right here. This one's for both of you.' MeLaan handed out the red one to us. We took it, and ripped it open. Marsh said softly but excited, 'Wow! It's an assorted jumble of bones! I've always wanted one of these!'" Kelsier smiled as he remembered his brother when he was young.

"MeLaan smiled, and said, 'Before you play with it, here's another present for you.' she handed the black box to Marsh. Marsh smiled, opening it. 'Allomantic metals! But…' Marsh furrowed his brow. 'I'm only a Seeker. I can't burn the rest of these.' MeLaan smiled, a knowing smile, but only said, 'You'll need them in the future.' I peered over the lip of the couch, and pointed at the white box, and asked, 'Is that for me? Who's it from?' MeLaan smiled her knowing smile again, but only said, 'God.' I took the gift, and gently opening it, I found it was a divine commandment from Preservation to Survive. 'It's Surviving time.' I said, and then I Survived over everyone in that room, and that's why all three of those people- MeLaan, Kelsier, and Marsh, are still alive to this day." Kelsier sat back in the hot pink armchair, and smiled.

"Um, actually," the Terris nerd girl protagonist from Era 3 said, "MeLaan is a Kandra, and they're immortal. And isn't that spike in your eye supposed to be made of steel? It's oddly copper-colored for a steel spike."

And Kelsier smiled a knowing smile, and said, "I knew you would catch that, because you're the protagonist. I'm not Kelsier at all, in fact." he said, despite Brandon originally planning on making him insane and think he was Kelsier. The children gasped, for there were few Kandra with the Blessing of Presence, and there was, truly, only one it could be. The face of 'Kelsier' turned translucent, and all the children saw the horrifying sight of him turn into a wolfhound in less than a minute that would scar them for years to come.

"Kandra Klaus!" all the children screamed in joy, as TenSoon, better known as Kandra Klaus, gave all of them assorted jumbles of bones and Tober's Accurate Soonie Pups to play with, and pure Lerasium and Atium that all of them burned. All the children became Mistborn and saw into the Spiritual Realm, thus throwing all of Scadrial into chaos through this imbalance of Allomantic power and futuresight, thus averting the plot of Era 3. And the one who was happiest most of all, was Sazed, but he was also the saddest of all because of the Discord thing.

The End. Have a Goopy Mistwraithmas, and to All a Loathsome Night!

Once More Round the Sun the World Turns. The Fervent Sets Out to Banish the House of Ashes From Every Mind. The Shadow Seeks to Choose a New Path. And the Son of Man Seeks to Solve all a City's Sins.

---

Mistborn: Smoke and Ash​

Revolution in the Final Empire​

Kelsier found Baz'en, leading a mob, or a sermon. The People's Square, in the heart of Austrex, was packed to the brim, so much so that Kelsier could not see the floor for the mass of people- there had to be over a hundred thousand in the square. Large bonfires roared at various points across the square, made of furniture, to combat the cold of the winter day and provide heat to the skaa. Burning tin, he saw they were too palatial to be resold, or bore text proclaiming the greatness of the Lord Ruler on them, and consigned to the flames because of that. Soldiers in uniform commingled with the crowd, seemingly not doing anything different than the common skaa. And that was one main feature of this gathering- Kelsier could not see anyone wearing the breeches of a noble.

Landing atop one of the large, fine buildings that surrounded the square, his eyes were drawn towards the center of the square, where one of the fountains where the Inquisitors executed prisoners once stood. He found that it had been demolished, and the basin filled with cement. A bull made of brass, gleaming new, stood atop the basin-turned-platform, an unlit brazier below its belly. Several haggard and beaten individuals were hogtied before it. He wondered what they had done to deserve whatever fate Baz'en had in store for them. A dozen soldiers stood guard over them, Baz'en seemingly confident that they could not escape, surrounded by a hundred thousand skaa.

Baz'en was standing atop a balcony, on the giving a passionate speech. She was clothed in a white robe, although not a Terris tinningdar. Vin was standing next to her. Baz'en was… preaching? She hadn't struck him as a religious woman. Kelsier edged closer, jumping over roofs, and smiling when Vin looked his way. Vin smiled back, so she was ok participating in this.

Kelsier squatted, watching over the square, and listened to Baz'en's words while watching the crowd below, his mistcloak flapping in the chill southern winter winds, with the only fire he needed being the warmth of Allomancy. Baz'en spoke. "We gather here today on the Solstice, to celebrate a holiday destroyed a thousand years ago. But no matter how the Lord Ruler strove to extinguish it, we, the skaa, always held this day in reverence. While the name of this day has been forgotten, only known to a few Terrismen, it is irrelevant. The meaning of this holiday is the important one, for today was once a day of community, gift-giving, and celebration. As well as revolution and liberty!" Baz'en's proclamation was followed by the crowd raising their voices in a cheer.

Kelsier burned bronze, and couldn't feel any Allomantic pulses coming from Baz'en, but he guessed she was burning zinc and Rioting the crowd. "We have much to be thankful for." Baz'en prayed. "We are free, free to command our own fate for the first time in a thousand years. This holiday was a sacred day most of all to the people of this city before the Ascension, and it endured for a few decades before it was banned with the birth of the Inquisition. It is only right that we celebrate this day once again!"

"And on this day, we will spill the blood of kings! In addition to being the last generation of the Thousand Year Reign of Terror, they are personally guilty of uncountable crimes against mankind. They will be made to know that the age of lords is over! For we are skaa!" Baz'en cried, and the shouts of the crowd reached a breaking point. Baz'en Pushed off the building, landing atop the the bull. "Malinal Yonnol ordered several of his textile workers executed after production was below average one year, as a lesson to the rest to work harder! Damning himself to Hell for all eternity! But first, here on this mortal coil, we will give him redressement so justly deserved, and take our pound of flesh!"

Baz'en slid down to the podium upon which the bull stood, in-between it and one of the wretches tied up and kneeling. She Pushed on the man, Malinal presumably having coins or nails on him to give Baz'en a better grasp, throwing him screaming into the crowd. "KILL HIM!" Baz'en screamed, and the crowd converged on Malinal, shouting slogans such as 'Long Live the Commune!' and 'Blessed be the Revolution!' as they ripped him apart, like the Lord Ruler was by the crowd at the Victory at Fountain Square. Was that what this was based on?

Baz'en went to the other side of the bull, another trembling wretched at her feet. "Klara Yomen murdered one of the skaa craftsmen beneath her for attempting to obtain just a few extra clips, and today she shall find he will pay for those few clips with her life! KILL HER!" Baz'en screamed as she Pushed Klara into another half of the crowd, where they begin to rip her apart.

Baz'en then walked up to the back of the bull, where the third and final wretch sat, hands and legs bound. "And we have a big one here. Theril Tegas, once Lord of House Tegas, Venturist scum. In addition to being guilty of all the sins of being lord of a major House, he attempted to raise an army in our Eastern Territories at the behest of the Pretender Straff Venture, and massacred several villages before his group of bandits and thugs died before our armies. But I dragged this bastard back here, mostly in one piece, so he could face a fitting punishment. And he has too much blood on his hands for the past executions to be fitting. And so, this bull." Baz'en smiled, turning to it.

Baz'en opened up a metal flap on hinges in the back of the bull, and began to explain. "This is also an invention of our city, lost long before the Ascension, however. Throw someone in, light a fire below, and they burn to death. But let me show as opposed to talk." Baz'en picked up Theril easily as she was definitely burning pewter, and slammed the lid, locking a padlock at its top, and handing off the key to a nearby guard. She picked up an oil lamp, and held it up to the crowd. "This is on our flag for a reason. We are the only light of reason in a world of debauched insane nobles, where ash falls from the sky to bury us, and the worm-eaten remains of the House of Ashes seeks to snuff us out. But we are also the fire of revolution and redressement! AND OUR ENEMIES WILL BURN IN OUR FIRE!" Baz'en screamed, smashing the oil lamp in the brazier, and Kelsier stopped burning his metals so he could feel the waves of determination and anger coming off Baz'en.

Was this sort of celebration a typical thing in Austrex? It seemed like Baz'en was intent on resurrecting this holiday, from days long past, and it definitely seemed anachronistic, but there just weren't huge organized public events like this where the people attending it were allowed to be merry. While he wouldn't hold public executions at one, this was an interesting holiday, as well as an interesting method of execution. It definitely could be used for the more debased nobles still uncaught in the New Republic.

Baz'en spotted him, and, smiling, she Pushed herself out of the crowd, next to Kelsier on the rooftop where he was, still in her white robe. Vin, on the balcony, spotted the sudden congregation of Mistborn, and Pushed over to them. Baz'en turned to Vin, with a smile and a nod, and then turned back to Kelsier. "Have you heard of the God Beyond, Kelsier?"

"I don't recall Sazed ever mentioning a deity of that name." Kelsier answered.

"Axindweth told me of Him. A minor deity in Classical Scadrial, this festival was sacred to Him. It was stripped of its religious meaning in the time of Hallance, but the God Beyond provides the perfect canvas to create a new faith off of." Baz'en smiled.

"You're religious?" Vin asked.

Baz'en turned, and answered Vin. "I believe fully in Iconoclasm and the New Republic. But… you need a deity for the skaa to express themselves in the correct way. Let them continue with their faith, and they begin worshiping you, or me. And that just doesn't sit right with me. And so, the God Beyond- I don't like God much, given He let the Final Empire continue unabated for a thousand years, and so, another God it is, who will support our revolution."

"What's the difference between God and the God Beyond?" Kelsier asked. Kelsier noticed that ash started to fall, slowly drifting from the clouds above.

Baz'en shrugged. "Axindweth was light on the details, and I presume whatever tome she found that mentioned the God Beyond was similarly light. All I know is that the God Beyond is older than God, and His reach extends to the whole Cosmere."

"God doesn't control the universe? I thought he created the place." Vin asked.

"I thought so too. If the Keepers don't think he did, then he probably didn't. One more of the Lord Ruler's lies." Baz'en spat.

"Well, I still haven't found concrete evidence of any deities. The closest I've found is that a Hero of Ages comes once every thousand years, taking power at the Well of Ascension, and is able to shape the very fabric of Scadrial, but the only evidence there is how the Well of Ascension exists in the first place, and how it goes against everything we know. Although Axindweth's theories of the Chromium alloy give me an idea that's a reserve of the metal that forged the first Mistborn out of the Nine Kings who kneeled." Kelsier postulated.

"A metal made Mistborn?" Vin asked.

"Yes, all noble Houses trace their ancestry back to the Nine Kings, and their children marrying into the various pre-existing noble Houses of Classical Scadrial. The Houses they belonged to themselves are the ancestors of the Houses with the strongest Allomantic bloodlines, such as House Venture and House Tekiel. The nobles remember their own past, at the very least." Baz'en confirmed.

"So you think the Well of Ascension is a second Pits of Hathsin, with this Mistborn-making metal in it?" Vin asked Kelsier.

"It's the only thing I can think of. It would explain the seemingly small impact of the past Heros of Ages, and the great effect of the Lord Ruler. If someone had Spiritual Pushing External Feruchemy, they could store Allomantic effects in their metalminds, and could move Scadrial closer to the sun, perhaps Pull magma from the inner fire of Scadrial to create the Ashmounts, or maybe this eighteenth metal has some powerful Feruchemical effect." Kelsier postulated.

"What about the end of the green plants, the Balance, and the Lord Ruler creating the Koloss and Inquisitors?" Baz'en asked.

Kelsier shook his head. "The Balance isn't real. It's all nurture. Of course skaa raised in slavery will have differences than nobles raised in luxury. Both Vin and I are half-skaa, and I'm very tall while Vin is very short, even discounting the difference in height between genders. The plant colors I'm less sure about. Natural adaptation, maybe? As for Hemalurgy, we know many died during his first conquests- who's to say someone didn't accidentally discover it in Classical Scadrial, Rashek learnt of it, and killed many in experiments to discover the Koloss and Inquisitors? Everything in our world seems to have an explanation, and I've found nothing needs to be ascribed to an unproven divine. After all, what God worth the name would allow the Final Empire?"

"Why would the Lord Ruler abandon that metal, if it could move worlds in their orbit, and compound Allomancy? And wouldn't he have know what to expect when you were burning Chromium at the Victory, and he could pierce copperclouds?" Baz'en asked.

"I don't know." Kelsier answered. "Impossible to produce without someone finding out about his Feruchemy, or finding about Chromium Allomancy? No, the Pits of Hathsin managed fine. I suppose… a thousand years can take a toll on a man, and the weight of the blood on his hands was heavy. He stopped appearing at balls in the two years before the Revolution, although I've been told that wasn't unusual. He also… smiled at me when his wrist broke after slapped me. And he only tried to flee once during that entire time. I think he had some sort of sickness of the mind. Or perhaps he didn't believe he could die."

"Seems like melancholy." Vin said.

"I hope we manage to actually get information from one of the Obligators or Inquisitors who were around him often, or maybe collate snippets of information about him from various texts of Nobles who saw him at balls, or in other rare occasions. For being the man who ruled the world up until eight months ago, we know so little about him." Baz'en said.

"Either way, what are you aiming for in the act of creating a new religion?" Kelsier asked the First Minister.

"You said Survivorism was spawned in your quest for fanatics, who would carry on your fight even if you died. While the Keepers say religion and ideology is separate, I believe they can be unified. A faith where virtue is liberty and piety is revolution would aid us in providing those more prone to religion an acceptable alternative that is tied to the Republic." Baz'en explained.

"I suppose I get the need, but why this celebration?" Kelsier asked, casting his hand over the square. Down below, he could see the soldiers finally organizing, handing out cups of water with metal dust of the base Allomantic metals to the crowd. The cups were wooden, and while they tried to get back as many as they handed out, many people would take them home. On the plus side, it was increasing the proliferation of domestic kitchen items.

"I… well," Baz'en stammered, not sure of what to say first. "The Solstice is a liminal period, all the skaa agree upon that. The borders between worlds are stretched thin, the borders between years meld together, and darkness reigns. Normally the skaa huddle close to friends and family, hang up a few charms, and are extra superstitious today. But the borders between worlds being thin means this world can influence others. And so, if on today, we have a large festival, devoted to the revolution and our flame, it is cleansing and transformative, casting off the darkness of the Lord Ruler that still binds our minds, the skaa will believe that a new era has begun, the Age of the Republic." Baz'en said. And looking down at the chanting skaa in the square below, Kelsier believed her.

"I should've done a festival like this. Would a few days after the Solstice when I get back to Luthadel work, or should I wait until the spring Equinox? Vin, what do you think? You were raised skaa." Kelsier asked the young Mistborn for her input.

"I don't recall ever hearing about the equinox until I met you." Vin answered.

"Alright, sooner than later it is then. Baz'en, I have a few questions about the state of the Communard Army." Kelsier said.

Baz'en's calm demeanor faded, she frowned, and instantly grew shifty-eyed. "What about the army?" she asked.

"Oh, bloody hell, it's that bad? What's the size of the army? What's the main issue?"

"Twenty-two thousand." Baz'en replied sheepishly.

"By the Angels' Pinions! Only twenty thousand? Please, I won't judge, just tell me what the matter is, and we can work on getting it on track at least seventy thousand." Kelsier consoled Baz'en.

"It's Renholm Callenos!" Baz'en spat. "Every new division the Assembly raises, the Commercantists gain control of more than we do. Not many more, but we're 9 to 11 right now, and if I keep recruiting, the amount of Commercantist divisions will exceed the amount of Iconoclast divisions. And then things will grow truly unstable here in Austrex."

At least he got it out of Baz'en this time. "I need more explanations. How are the loyalties of entire divisions divided? And how unstable are things currently? I haven't really seen more than simmering tension." Kelsier asked.

"Well, whenever the Assembly decides to create one, the question of captain comes up. And there's a bloc of Assemblymen whose loyalties are suspect- I'm sure they're taking bribes from Callenos, but I haven't found anything yet. Callenos opens the Commercantist's coffers every time one of these votes comes up, he really wants to gain more divisions than we do. And for unstable, well maybe I'll get to show you later today. Executions generally set off the Commercantists." Baz'en said.

"Twenty-one, what's division twenty-two?" Vin asked. Oh, great catch, Kelsier didn't notice that.

"Captain Goradel's division, stayed behind after the Austrex Uprising to help train divisions. He's neutral, given he'll follow whatever order comes in from Luthadel. Only neutral man in Austrex." Baz'en said.

Kelsier took this all into consideration. Just another problem he needed to solve, at the national level, but it got easier as his resources increased. All parties would agree to anything he laid down. But it needed to be stable enough to last the year, and for Austrex to get by in the meantime. He saw a few options, but none were good in the long term. Making Goradel, or someone else, a General of the Southern Army and shackling all divisions to their command would make both parties resent Luthadel. And he needed the long term with Austrex, which needed to be the southern bulwark of the Republic, even if it couldn't advance outwards.

But Baz'en had surely thought about this a lot. And so, "Baz'en, what do you think a good solution is?" he asked her.

"Oh, simple. Make me, the First Minister, the sole authority of appointing captains. That way Callenos wouldn't get a single more division, and every division would have a loyal Iconoclast. Captain." Baz'en said.

No, that wasn't good either, and would probably lead to Baz'en being able to totally enforce your will. "Vin, what do you think about this problem?" he asked her.

"I would make it so that the parties get an equal number of divisions. Have Goradel's division as a third force, that could change the balance in event of any strife. Maybe expand the number of men under his command so that it's always one tenth of the amount of the other divisions, so two thousand now, three thousand at thirty thousand, etc, so he can always swing the balance if a problem arises. In my experience, this threat of annihilation keeps two crews below another crew in check- however, this would be temporary." Vin said.

Damn. Well, that was a good solution, the best he would get. But operating on the state level, it would be easy for either party to turn around and start training people in secret.

"What were you thinking?" Baz'en asked.

"Putting Goradel in charge of the entire Southern Army, and elevating Republican Armymen to the position of captain." Kelsier said, and Baz'en grimaced. "But I know it would only add unneeded complexity and only grow resentment towards the New Republic." Which mollified Baz'en.

"What time is it? I'm getting hungry." Vin said.

Kelsier looked at one of the small city clocks in the square, finding it was indeed some minutes after twelve noon, and in the process seeing the metal bull was… bellowing? No, those were screams. Many members of the crowd were surrounding it, jeering and laughing. "Baz'en, how does the bull work?" he asked the sanguine Mistborn.

"The metal is heated by the brazier, and the person roasts alive inside. Their screams are redirected, and sound like the bellowing of bulls." Baz'en said with an all-too wide grin.

"Do not burn anyone alive again." Kelsier commanded. "Hang them with rope, rip them apart, shoot them, guillotine them, I don't care. Do not hang them by hooks, do not spill their blood onto the streets, and do not burn them. They've done terrible things, of course, and I understand you find a spectacle in execution that could be used to free the people. I find that needed in Luthadel, same as here, but I draw the line at torture- without good reason." Kelsier finished. Now what would Baz'en do?

Baz'en stared at Kelsier, an unknowable expression upon her face. Then she sighed, stood up, looked down and Kelsier, and spoke. "Come on. It'd be easier for both of us to crush the bull together."


Austrex is a mess, there is no denying that. The Commune's predicament is one step from damnation, or the Aspirant Army burning Austrex to the ground and snuffing the Second Flame of the Revolution out- but those are the same. There is no good solution, and all have negatives, and benefits. And so, Kelsier has to pick his poison, in order to cultivate a standing army. And then he has to justify to a city surviving a lean time why they cannot simply take some resources from the cache, at least if it exists in Austrex.

[ ] Baz'en's Plan. Give Baz'en full authority over appointing captains. The worst plan, but it would likely solve Austrex's political issues- permanently. Baz'en will have free reign over the Austrex Commune, and assuredly, using her command over the army, she will end Renholm Callenos' life, and crush the Commercantists that do not heel to her rule. It would be bloody, with many innocents dying, and end in Baz'en ruling the Commune undisputed. Commercantism's destruction would be slow and painful, and would not give the Aspirant Empire any chances to destroy the Commune.

[ ] Kelsier's Plan. Make Captain Goradel General of the Southern Army, give him authority to appoint captains, and maintain his tie to the New Republic. Not the worst plan, and might solve Austrex's political issues- by both parties unifying in their dislike of Luthadel. In practice, the Southern Army will be reconstituted, and will be able to recruit its own divisions, and it will likely expand directly controlled military infrastructure such as powder mills and forges. Goradel will be under the command of the Minister of War Hammond in the New Republic, but it will only further strain the New Republic's administrative capabilities, and integration with Austrex in the future may prove difficult. Baz'en will certainly demand compensations, whether that be in land or in other concessions.

[ ] Vin's Plan. Make it so that each party leader gets to appoint a captain every other division raised. The amount of troops under Goradel's command will be automatically increased to be exactly 10% of the other divisions, ensuring that no one steps out of line as the sword of Goradel's men will be ready to bring the sword down on the rowdy faction. This preserves Austrex's autonomy, while also ensuring stability. The current state of affairs will be maintained for as long as possible, and while there is a risk of extrajudicial militias loyal to each party forming, it won't get too bad as long as there is the common enemy that are the Imperial Successors.

---

The three Mistborn sat at a table in a soup kitchen, after having departed the People's Square, leaving the crushed bull behind with Theril Tegas put out of his misery, and the people to celebrate the Solstice on their own. Ash fell outside, forming a carpet that would be pushed into piles in alleyways and along buildings- a result of Austrex lacking an organization devoted to public cleanliness. Inside, several guards stood between their table in the back and the rest of the soup kitchen, preventing skaa from mobbing those they respected as their liberators.

They got the bowls, filled with soup so thick it could be called stew, from a reverent cook who pressed the pepper grinder and salt box into their hands, as well as the promise of seconds, and Baz'en explained as they sat down at the table, fighting only slightly over the spot that faced the door and was closest to the wall. "I'm sorry that it's not much, but we have to ration food here in Austrex. The added territory from the Eastern Dominance doesn't make up for the territory we lost, but I know you've been having food issues as well. I truly don't understand what you see in the Oligarchy, a bunch of nobles whose insular Dominance and lack of food prevents them from proclaiming themselves an Imperial Successor."

"I don't do it for them." Kelsier shook his head. "I knew that if I turned them down, the nobles would eat what little food they had, and the misery would be weighted on the skaa, and they would starve. I've given them the bare minimum. Our predictions are that it'll take years for them to become self-sustaining, and, my plan?" Kelsier leaned in, and whispered ever so slightly to Baz'en, "Annexation." He saw Vin out of the corner of his eye pick up the salt box and spoon a sizable helping of the stuff into her stew.

Kelsier leaned back, taking another spoonful of stew, as understanding dawned on Baz'en's face. Did the Communard think he planned to leave that oligarchy seething in the Southern Sea? It seemed as if she only trusted herself, and he wondered what sort of people made up her close allies among the Austrex Iconoclasts.

"So, Allomantic effects can be stored in metalminds of the Chromium alloy?" Vin asked.

Kelsier nodded his head. "Allomantic ability. Axindweth used the term 'Investiture' but I've never heard it before. She explained it's the actual charge in metalminds and presumably spikes, as well as Allomantic effects. Baz'en, do you know more?" he asked the Mistborn.

"I'm not too interested in her science- in my experience, the professionals know more about a subject that the scientists, and the best scientists can only hope for patronage from a noble who wishes to appear forward-thinking." Baz'en flatly said.

"But that's changed." Vin said.

"But it is changed, hasn't it?" Baz'en asked herself, before turning to Kelsier and Vin. "What would the Chromium alloy's Allomantic effect be?"

"Chromium seems oddly paired with aluminum." Vin added.

Kelsier thought about it for a second. "Pushing, External… duralumin for others, on touch?" he suggested.

"That doesn't seem very useful." Baz'en said.

"Not when you're Mistborn." Vin said. "But if we can gather enough of the Chromium alloy, if we can find Mistings, they can support other Allomancers. You ran a crew with a lot of Mistings- surely now you can think of situations where they need duralumin."

"Can't forget all our Rioting stations. Maybe on celebrations or during war, we could use that sort of Rioting." Kelsier suggested.

Baz'en sighed. "I suppose. But what about its Feruchemical property? Allomantic attribute has some potential, but you'd need some way for an Allomancer to access it."

"Hemalurgy…" Vin started speaking.

"We are unaware of the spikes required to transfer Feruchemical metals in that quarter between person. But I plan on rectifying this during the upcoming wars against the Imperial Successors. I'm fairly certain of the metals required to transfer those powers." Kelsier didn't want Baz'en experimenting with Hemalurgy, not in the slightest.

"All right. But atium could be used right now for that purpose." Baz'en suggested.

"We don't have enough as it stands. The Great Houses and Cantons have built up their supplies of the metal for a thousand years, and countless lesser houses have small stockpiles from past heights of power or past purchases. We just have what was seized during the Revolution, and every bit of atium is necessary for the wars to come." Kelsier explained.

"I've tried to burn Hemalurgic atium, and… I had what seemed like a vision of things yet to come. I'm not particularly willing to waste Hemalurgic atium if it doesn't have the typical effect." Baz'en said.

Baz'en had done the same, and had the same effect. Kelsier's mind jumped from possibility to possibility, before settling on the most likely outcome. But then Vin spoke. "Is that what you meant by that Atium being strange, Kel? Are there two types of atium?"

"No." Kelsier said. "It seems as if being used Hemalurgically, as in the Inquisitor spikes, taints the atium, which bestows visions of things yet to come. I had the same experience, Baz'en." Oh God, could they see the future?

Both Baz'en and Vin had picked up on that, seemingly, wide-eyed, looking at each other as if they knew a secret that no one else did. And they did. Kelsier thought back, and went over what he saw when he burned Hemalurgic atium, taken from a Steel Inquisitor's spike.

---

"We're a rare breed Vin, but we will undoubtedly encounter Mistborn on the field, opposed to us. And we're the only ones who can effectively fight against them, as Mistborn can kill hundreds, especially with atium. We need to know the full extent of electrum's counter." Kelsier said to Vin, her mistcloak lifting off the ground near-imperceptibly more than when he had gotten it made for her.

"Then can you burn the electrum while I burn the atium?" Vin asked.

Kelsier shook his head. "I've fought several well-equipped Mistborn before, and you're under-trained. I've been negligent, but you've performed admirably against Shan and the Elariel Mistborn, as well as the Inquisitors. Distant rays of light streamed through the shattered lavender stained glass pane, the mist leaking through the sharp glass, and swirling around the two Mistborn in an abandoned hallway of Keep Venture. Hinges hung empty on the other wall where an iron door had been stripped to be sold by Elend.

"All right. No chromium, right?" Vin asked.

"Right. On three?" Vin nodded. "One. Two. Three." Kelsier burned the atium, and all he felt was a sudden wave of energy as his vision faded to white, and he saw…

Vin, wearing a blue dress, came to a stop in front of a massive pink stained glass window, in the same hallway, burning pewter and something else. She pulled clips out, gleaming with a blue light, and Pushed them through the window, minute slits created in the window that weakened it.

Vin threw herself into the air, flaring steel and pewter and copper, Pushing against the iron door that burned like the blue flame seen on the masts of ships in thunderstorms, clade in a ballgown, covering her head as she crashed through the pink window, sending shards of glass falling, spinning in the mist, reflecting the distant limelight of the last ball.

Vin dropped a coin to the ground below, Pushing on it, shooting straight up through the mist onto the rooftop above, which gleamed with the same blue light. She fell to a crouch, barefoot, burning copper, tin, and flaring bronze. Kelsier could feel multiple Allomantic pulses coming from somewhere else, and Vin seemingly felt that as well, as she started sprinting across the gleaming rooftop, ripping off her dress with pewter, pulling a pouch from its remains, before she wore nothing but her underclothes.

Figures appeared, standing next to a skylight, strangely not illuminated by the rooftop below. Vin cried, Pushing herself in an arc, landing in the middle of the figures, who reacted with surprise. She ripped her coin pouch in two, so that the glowing blue clips fell in a rain around her. Vin flared steel, but only two out of six fell, but as they were burning pewter, that likely wouldn't kill them.

Vin turned to the two Mistborn, one Shan Venture, the other an Elariel scion. Shan yelled "You?" in shock, as Vin dodged a dueling cane, and went skidding across the blue rooftop.

The vision fell apart, and Kelsier found himself looking through two eyes- this time, his own.

Kelsier threw himself into the fray with a war cry on his lips, as the soldiers charged behind him, shouting "For the Republic!". His soul burned with Allomancy, too many metals to identify, but he noted that he plainly didn't recognize some of the pulses. Kelsier came down hard on a noble officer, Pulling on their gleaming blue armor, and crushing them. Kelsier burned an unknown metal, and, screaming, dozens of blue-clad soldiers went flying, and nearly a hundred toppled over onto the ash-stained grass below.

Kelsier whipped out a small metal flask that burned with blue, downing a portion of the wine in it, replenishing his metals. He burned that unknown metal again, in conjunction with bronze and zinc, Soothing and Rioting the enemy soldiers around him. "Rise up, skaa! Your thousand year enslavement is at an end! Liberation is now!" he screamed above the din of battle and distant explosions.

And all it took was a single rallying cry to blossom into a roar of liberty, as Kelsier shouted out commands, leading the enemy soldiers towards the edge of the battlefield, with many times the number of the initial mutineers joining in, fighting all the enemies in their way. Cannonballs exploded around them, but most avoided the mutiny- Kelsier had told the artillery crew his plan beforehand. Within minutes, they burst out of the battlefield, covered with blood, onto the ashen fields, many soldiers only now clueing into what was going on.

The center had collapsed, and one of the flanks had a swath of disarray carved through it. Kelsier now held the scales which weighed the mutineer's souls- turn back to the nobles and face execution for what they just did, or fight now and be cut down by all those who willingly followed Kelsier, the stiff breeze blowing his mistcloak's tassels in an imposing sight.

No one turned back or fought. Kelsier directed them to a spot away from the battle, and turned to find a Mistborn scything through his lines, killing his soldiers indiscriminately. He growled, dropped a Republican Iron onto the barren earth below, and Pushed himself back into the fray to challenge this Mistborn.

The din of battle turned faint, screams and roars dominating it, and Kelsier once again found himself observing a scene at Keep Venture.


Dockson said, "This is all Kelsier's fault." He stood, furiously writing, tables bedecked with notes and books and papers, atop a overlook, as koloss ravaged Keep Venture's Grand Hall below. "He should have seen this coming." Dockson spoke. "He left us with this mess, and he just assumed that we'd find a way to fix it. Well, I can't hide a city from its enemies- not like I hide a crew. Just because we were excellent thieves doesn't mean we'd be any good at running a kingdom!" A rhythm played in the background, simple and repetitive, but enjoyable, even if it didn't fit the tone of the scene before him.

Dockson spoke to no one, the scribes around him gathering up papers and fleeing, but he continued nonetheless. "But… what if he slew the Lord Ruler?" Dockson pondered, looking over a map of Luthadel below. "Once he had the power, he'd have founded a more equitable government. We would have invaded the other dominances, sending armies to kill the most important and powerful successors of the Final Empire. There would've been a war like the world had never seen. And if that had happened…" Dockson trailed off as rocks, torn up from the paving below, shattered the stained glass windows, flurries of snow joining the shards below.

Koloss jumped through, and the rest of the scribes ran, being cut down. Dockson pulled out his pair of daggers, the metal burning with a blue glow, and spoke a final time, more of a whisper. "For better or worse, I wish that had happened." Dockson ran past a koloss' left side, the beast unable to reach him with its sword arm. He leapt up on its back, plunging a blue dagger into its neck, causing the koloss to topple to the ground, but his dagger remained lodged in its neck.

Dockson swore as a larger koloss crashed through the window, cursing Kelsier's name. Dockson slid below its legs, guiding his blue dagger into the beast's crotch, but was kicked, throwing him to the bottom of the window. The koloss stumbled forwards, and fell head first over the banister into the Grand Hall. A third koloss, even larger than the last two, jumped through the window, and Dockson rose to his feet. He was bleeding, could hardly stand, and Kelsier screamed for his friend, with the rhythm rising in volume and power.
Dockson drew a sword that cast a pale blue light onto his face, the only metal that did such. Dockson charged, but the koloss blocked his thrust with its hand, knocking Dockson to the ground, before raising its giant sword, and bringing it down upon his friend.

Before Kelsier could see his friend die, the vision fell apart into blackness, and a voice filled his ears. "Kelsier are you okay? Kel please come back to me!" His vision cleared, and he found himself on his knees, with Vin gripping his wrists. "Oh my God you started burning the atium and you slumped down and wouldn't respond. I burned chromium and are you okay?"

Kelsier shook his head, getting to his feet. "I'm fine, just a bit out of it." Kelsier said, holding his head, which felt as if he had slammed it against a wall, but without any pain. "That spike atium is strange. It's best if we stick to our small stockpiles and the atium taken from the Lord Ruler's bands."

Vin hugged Kelsier. Kelsier felt another shock, before lowering his hands to her back, and returning the hug.

---

"I really hope you plan to restart mining at the Pits of Hathsin." Baz'en said. Kelsier was shocked out of his reminiscing, as his scars ached. "Oh, don't give me that look. I would probably use nobles, but there's no reason you can't set up a normal mining operation. It's dismal work, but happiness for the skaa is regular pay and a day off per week."

"I have to, don't I?" Kelsier asked. "Immortality is within the reach of mankind. But I don't want another person to die down in those pits."

"The price is well worth it, Premier." Baz'en said. "Blood greases the wheels of history. Someone has to die for anything worthwhile to occur." This woman… Kelsier found it hard to disagree with her. She had her own comprehensive view of the world, and she clearly acted and spoke according to it in such a way it was hard for anyone around her to deny it. He wondered what the seed of it was, what gave her such hatred for the nobility she was likely born in.

"Visions, Kel? What sort of visions? And if you don't mind me asking, what did you see, Baz'en?" Vin asked the two.

Kelsier turned to Vin. "I saw several events, two taking place at Keep Venture, where I burned the Hemalurgic atium, the other me on a battlefield. I saw you jumping through that window to challenge Shanrial Venture, which segued to me on a battlefield, leading a sudden mutiny among skaa soldiers using emotional Allomancy, before turning back to fight a Mistborn- I think I could sense all Allomantic pulses, including copper, and all metal I saw glowed blue. The third vision… disoriented me the most. Minister Dockson, my closest friend, was in Keep Venture as koloss laid waste to it, speaking and cursing my name as if I died fighting the Lord Ruler. He killed two, before being slain himself."

Baz'en narrowed her eyes. "Concerning. I could sense all Allomantic pulses as well, and all metal glowed blue as well. As for what I saw- I saw my own death, betrayal at the hands of the Commercantists, and Austrex in the days right after the Ascension."

Vin's eyes widened. "You have to elaborate."

Baz'en faintly smiled. "I saw myself back at the Austrex Uprising, but there was no Republican Army at the gates, nor any revolutionaries at my back, fighting that Inquisitor I slew. But I did not know of their back spike, and it wore me down in battle, before slaying me via impaling me with a spike of atium. Then, I saw what must have been the future- barricades in the streets, Austrese turned against Austrese, the Commune imploding, the Aspirant Army a day away, me racing through the streets and crushing the rebels in my attempt to find Reholm and cut the head off the snake. I don't know the outcome, for then I saw another barricade, in the days after the Ascension, of the Hallance Commune. One of the Nine Kings was a consul of the Hallant Republic, and the abolition of the Republic led to revolution, a Commune at the beginning of the Final Empire, paralleled by our Commune at the end. A blue flag, tattered, hung from the barrel of a rifle, and many lay dead- royalist soldiers and Communards as ash fell from the sky. And then the koloss appeared. Some were felled, but there were simply too many of them, and they surmounted the barricade, putting its defenders that did not flee to the sword."

Kelsier furrowed his brow. "I do not know if we can trust these visions. What is the future, what is the past, and what is another road we could have taken?"

"Did you ask Axindweth about the First Commune?" Vin asked.

"I did." Baz'en cheerfully stated. "Austrex is recorded as being put to the sword and razed via koloss along with many other major cities after the Ascension. However, there are almost zero mentions of a revolution, and what sources there are, mainly from the Consul's biography, are light on details or are suspect. The Lord Ruler assuredly covered up the First Commune. But now I know, thank to his own atium."

"Vin, ask me about the time between you shooting that window full of coins and first confronting Shan Venture." Kelsier said.

"Well…. When did it end, exactly?" Vin asked.

"After you attacked them with coins and jumped away after one swung a dueling cane at you." Kelsier said.

"What did I anchor on to Push myself through the window?" Vin asked.

"The iron door." Kelsier answered.

"No, too easy, you were in that hallway…" Vin's face lit up. "What did Shan say to me?"

Kelsier thought about it. "Shan just exclaimed 'You'. Stunned, I suppose, that you were Mistborn."

"So there's a world where you died when you confronted the Lord Ruler. Oh God, and Luthadel came under attack by koloss. How? The nearest hordes are in the Wasted Lands, and in the Far Peninsula." Baz'en pondered.

"But the Lord Ruler died. Who killed him, if both of you perished?" Vin asked.

"Maybe Marsh? He would've had the opportunity to assassinate the Lord Ruler." Baz'en proposed.

"Had I died that day, OreSeur would have pointed Vin in the direction of killing the Lord Ruler. It seems like my faith in you was not misplaced." Kelsier said to Vin.

"Me? Kill the Lord Ruler? I just don't think I could. It took you everything you had to defeat him. Every trick, every metal, and you were worse than I've ever seen you after that fight. You broke bones, you lost your kidney." Vin said.

"I'm pretty sure I've gotten that kidney back." Kelsier said, smiling.

"Hold on. What? Oh, you did that…" Baz'en said, seemingly realizing that Kelsier was now a Hemalurgist.

"We'll talk about that later." Kelsier said to Baz'en.

Baz'en drummed her fingers. "What should I do with the Hemalurgic atium in the meantime? Seeing the future, the past, and what-could-have-been is tempting, and could give us a distinct advantage, if we know how to use it. Seems like it likes people and places… I'll definitely try burning some in Longsfollow with some captains, see if I can foresee the Aspirant attack. And see if I can change fate." Baz'en smiled, an all-too-wide smile.

"Leave it mostly alone for now. It'll depend if we can get the last two Hemalurgic metals, but I believe it is possible." Kelsier said.

The door of the soup kitchen slammed open, the three Mistborn looked up, but only Vin did not have to turn. Eufraso. Had he opened the door with Allomancy alone? Eufraso scanned the room, settling upon them with piercing gray eyes. Almost as bad as Marsh after he got those spikes, Kelsier thought.

Baz'en waved the guards to part, and Eufraso stepped up, in a military posture. "We have located the cache- there is no mistake, but neither I nor other Coinshots and Lurchers cannot open it. The lock is designed for a Mistborn, as the Premier Minister said. One problem though. It was found underneath the Canton of Finance building."

"God damn it!" Baz'en yelled, slamming her hand against the table. Many of the skaa in the soup kitchen glanced their way, but upon seeing it was their leader, they turned away, pretending they had never seen her outburst.

"Renholm is going to demand concessions." Baz'en growled, furiously drumming her fingers on the table. And then, she suddenly stopped, a smile growing on her face. Baz'en turned to Kelsier, with an all-too-wide smile. "Well, Kelsier, looks like you're going to see Callenos after all. What a wonderful day to embrace our fate, don't you think?"

---

Marsh blinked. It was hard to read with one normal eye, and steelsight in the other. But he managed. He wasn't feeling too well, but that was because of his storage of health into his goldminds, and a bit of a headache from trying to read with one eye. He had been making good headway- the Keeper Salys had given him an unkeyed goldmind of hers, and he had been able to get rid of two spikes within rapid succession. Brass and iron.

He was sure what spikes he would keep. Feruchemical gold was useful, he found that Copper was the natural pair of bronze, liked the ability to see through copperclouds, and he liked the stamina pewter gave him. Pewter and gold were necessary for the process of returning to his humanity. Atium was powerful, but… he wasn't much of a warrior, and it was a thing that was running low in the Republic.

The rest he could leave. They all were nice, but he enjoyed the sanctity of his soul more than a few nice powers. He wasn't doing that bad, Marsh reasoned. Sure, he felt wretched, but he could choose how wretched he felt. He could prepare his own meals, he could go to the bathroom on his own, all he needed to was stop storing. He wasn't ill, either- apparently it was easy to catch diseases when storing health, but he wasn't around people much during his return to humanity.

His injuries disappeared almost immediately after he got them, Sazed advising him that he should heal up immediately, as it apparently saved some health, despite the extra Feruchemical power it consumed- the lack of a recovery time helped a lot, it seemed, and Marsh also thought the Keeper disliked spilling more of his blood than was necessary.

There was so much more about the Cosmere he didn't know, and his recovery had taught him that- things that couldn't be explained with science alone. He maintained a certain mole that had been destroyed when a spike was shoved through it, and his wounds did not scar. There was something different about this healing, and so, he was reading a book on Feruchemy, to learn more about it. It had been copied out of the metalminds of the Keepers, by Fisal, but a past Keeper had observed and collated this information, a helpful book for the Keepers interested in their own Metallic Art- none of them actually specialized in Feruchemy, though.

Feruchemy was very similar to Allomancy in function, if not attribute. The metals were the crux of the Metallic Art, but, interesting, Feruchemists were more equivalent to Mistborn- and other than through the use of Hemalurgy, there were no Feruchemical Mistings. Marsh caught a thought of taking more powers from Feruchemists for himself via Hemalurgy, and shook his head to get rid of it.

There was one thing in particular that irked him, though. The Terrismen believed in Feruchemy the same way the nobles did Allomancy. Not the same, of course, but there was a visible root. The Lord Ruler was a Terrisman- was this where the belief of the sanctity of Allomancy came from? Probably, given it was non-existent before then. The Keepers were nicer than nobles, but Marsh knew A Feruchemist the Synod could not tolerate- Rindel. And he was a standard Iconoclast, albeit unusual in that he was a standard Iconoclast who was a Terrisman.

No, the Synod was no longer an organization devoted to freedom- and if he believed Rindel, it never was. He had agreed with Kelsier on sending Rindel back up to Terris, to perhaps get an Iconoclast government in the region, and he wondered how Terris Kahl was doing in its struggle, and how weak the Synod's control over Terris was. Huh. Foreign politics was new, wasn't it? Let alone the need for Marsh to care about what was occurring up in Terris. Every day he was thankful that the Final Empire was cast down, even if it went down in a different way than he expected.
And how were these stains on his soul coming along? Marsh fingered his spikes, only to hear a distant voice calling his name. "Who's there?" Marsh called out. Was it his imagination? He waited, listening… there it was again!

Marsh stopped storing in his goldmind, and rose out of the bed, trying to gauge where it came from. His vision blacked out for a little bit, which had been happening ever since he got these spikes. "Damn spikes…" Marsh growled.

"Marsh!" he heard the voice again. And he recognized it. A voice he hadn't heard in three years. A voice he thought he'd never hear again.

"Mare?" Marsh asked.

"Marsh! Oh thank god!" Mare cried.

Marsh whirled, searching for the source of the voice, against all odds, but she wasn't on the snow-covered street below, in the next room, or the hall. He wandered back to his room, thinking over what was going on. Was Mare alive? Kelsier had seen her die, but they didn't get her body back.

Could Kelsier have been mistaken, memories altered by what he had endured? Possible. Could Mare have escaped shortly before or shortly after? Unlikely, she would've let them know she was alive. Could she have lived, and survived in the Pits of Hathsin until Kelsier freed the people there, the two missing each other by mere hours? Unlikely, but if she had survived her execution, then Straff Venture wouldn't want to kill someone who could burn tin and find the geodes more easily. But she would've found her way back… although it hadn't been that long, Kelsier was gone for longer.

Was Mare alive? After all this, she came back? "Mare? Where are you? How are you alive?" Marsh called out.

"Marsh! I don't know where I am. It's like a well of light… I can call out, and sense people… although you're the first that's been able to hear me." Mare replied.

"A well of light? What… what's the last thing you remember?" Marsh said.

"I remember darkness and pain, and then this light that surrounds me. And the Pits of Hathsin. How… how long has it been?" Mare asked. So Mare was dead. But there was life after death. But she was alone?

"Three years. Oh, Mare, we did it. The Lord Ruler's dead, the Final Empire's gone, Luthadel and the Central Dominance are free for the first time in a thousand years." Tears spilled down Marsh's cheek, an unfamiliar feeling.

"Oh God, how? How did you topple the Empire and kill a God?" Mare asked, a similar feeling of joy in her voice.

"Kelsier, he snapped after you died, and escaped. Into a Mistborn. He unified the Underground and Resistance, and found a metal that could kill the Lord Ruler. He led us, and he rules our Republic." Marsh sat down back on his bed, a smile on his face.

"Oh, Kelsier… so driven. Where were you, Marsh, when the Lord Ruler died?" Mare asked.

Marsh paled. "I infiltrated the Steel Ministry, the Canton of Inquisition. And I ascended through the ranks quickly. So quick I was selected by the Steel Inquisitors to be turned into one of their own. I joined Kelsier and another half-skaa Mistborn we found in fighting the Lord Ruler and the rest of the Inquisitors. You'd love the half-skaa Mistborn, Mare. Her name is Vin, and…" Marsh choked up.

"The spikes! You're a Steel Inquisitor now, that's how I can speak with you! The spikes allow me to touch your soul!" Mare exclaimed.

"I'm getting them removed, Mare. They taint the soul heavily." Marsh said.

"No! You can't! Not when I just found you! Oh God, my time is running out. Please don't…" and Mare's voice trailed off into nothing, as quickly as it came.

Marsh found himself, once again, alone, sitting on his bed, head full of questions and few answers.

---

Nazh walked through the cold streets of Luthadel. He couldn't believe how cold it got, this close to the sun. Ah well, the winters were mild anyways, although he hadn't been to a place with really cold winters in a while. Nazh furrowed his brow. There were plenty of hot worlds, but few cold ones.

He shrugged. Cianalis had cold enough winters, and word had it that it was freezing up in Terris. It was probably because Scadrial, like a moth to a flame, had flown too close to the sun, its wings had caught fire, and it was blazing into ashes. Guyn said it was unstable on the long term, and in ten thousand years the world would be rendered uninhabitable, cloaked in.

And that was why he was here now. The Old City, the Imperial District, the once-heart of Luthadel, the heart of the heart of the Final Empire. Now, desolate. Hardly anyone walked in the streets, unlike in the New City. And Nazh wasn't that deep into it- the frosted spires of Kredik Shaw weren't that visible from ground level, although you could catch a glimpse of it on the southernmost side of the street. Oh, what was he saying? It would take years for the people of Luthadel to feel comfortable in the Old City. Nazh knew well enough how long memories of pain lasted.

Many wished to dismantle Kredik Shaw, as a source of iron and other resources that were poured into the building itself, although Minister Dockson said as long as better sources of iron existed, it wasn't economical to do it all at once. So other than a few small spires that had been toppled by soldiers before the Keepers managed to get the Ministry of War to prohibit firing guns at Kredik Shaw, the greater structure stood unchanged. However, the furnishings of the palace seemed inexhaustible, and were a helpful resource to the people of the New Republic.

Nazh had also heard something about a cache of resources found beneath Kredik Shaw, which is why the Premier had left the city, for it had a map to Austrex. Seemed unlikely to him- few maps pointed to treasure like that. No, the Premier had likely gone to Austrex to slap some sense into the factions there. How would he have known Austrex would have turned out like that?

Nazh found himself in front of the Canton of Resource building. It had changed since the first time he found himself here. The symbol of the Ministry of Republican Labor hung from the walls, and the front of the building had found itself with a coat of green paint, although the job was done poorly and the paint was already peeling.

He had first seen Dox and the Premier here, hadn't he? Two years ago, he was across the street, casing the Canton of Resource from an upstairs window, using his lifesense to see the patrols of guards past the large occluded glass windows. They wouldn't think to pursue him if he stole a map without leaving any evidence, with the Obligators thinking they had just lost it, and he was right. And then he had seen the two exiting the building, a tall, hawk-faced man, and a shorter bearded man. They were followed by a fat thief in noble's clothes and some skaa dressed as servants, including a waif who was beaten black and blue.

And then there was an Inquisitor. Nazh pulled back, but it didn't see him. The tall, hawk-faced man threw back a vial of Allomantic metals, and did something that made the Inquisitor begin pursuing him- using Emotional Allomancy, Nazh heard from some thieves later. And the man had Pushed off a coin onto the rooftops, making him a Mistborn. That man was the Survivor of Hathsin, and that was the moment Nazh realized there was something wondrous going on.

He had paid attention, it was the talk of the skaa underground. Mistborn, Hathsin, Revolution. Camon was overthrown by his crew, at the Survivor of Hathsin's urging. The crew was found butchered, but Kelsier remained untouched. Half the crews in the city were devoted to one goal- revolution. Rumor had it Kelsier would venture into the Keeps of the nobility, and fight them on their own terms, with Allomancy and Mist. He had even gone to one of the resistance's recruitment meetings, and had seen Kelsier rail against the Final Empire. He made note of a few important places- Camon's safehouse, Clubs' shop, and more, but he never thought he'd get involved.

And then he found a sword in his hands while he was drinking at an underground pub and himself part of a strike force against a Soothing parlor. Luthadel rose in blood and fire that night, and Nazh found himself on the front lines. One thing led to another, and he found himself working with Dockson as the Deputy Minister of Republican Transportation, all to pick through the Canton of Resource's maps. And he found liberty and camaraderie, and had gotten Khriss to come on-world, for he believed the Republic could be the salvation of Scadrial.

Could Nazh do something different than just asking Dockson for a letter recommendation to the Army and giving him well wishes? Tell him that the Well of Ascension would refill soon, and his men needed to comb across Terris to find it? Tell him of Ruin, a god scratching at the walls of the world, influencing men and events to bring doom to the whole of Scadrial? Tell him that there were a hundred worlds, and Nazh was from far-off shores, and would help him in topics Nazh knew nearly nothing about? Or turn back now, and help Khriss move offworld?

Nazh sighed, resolute against all odds, and stepped through the doors, and into the entry chamber.

---

Dockson's office was a former meeting room, the desk joined by some shelves, although he knew Dox mainly worked out in the cavernous hall, where he could personally look at whatever a scribe was doing and offer comments on it, or could hear from across the room some important statistics. This was for when he wanted to be alone, or for one-on-one meetings.

"So, Sazed tells me you told him you killed an Inquisitor." Dockson said, incredulously.

Nazh nodded. "I did, although in truth, I got lucky. It was heavily wounded from fatally wounding a Keeper beforehand, and that's the only thing that can match it on its own terms, a Mistborn, or a Feruchemist. I had prepared as well- I had devised an anti-Allomancer weapon. A blunderbuss with rock shot, a barrel carved of wood, and a flash pan made of pyrite. The Inquisitor was overconfident, thinking it would slay a normal man uneasily, and so I managed to kill it with a method that wouldn't really work. It'll kill Mistborn just fine, the problem's getting close enough. Wouldn't work on Inquisitors, under normal circumstances."

An uncomfortable silence filled the air of the office, and then Nazh spoke again. "Anyways, I would like to join the army. Preferably as an officer, and I would need your signature." he said to Dockson.

"By God I thought you'd never ask. While you do have a fondness with maps, you've never quite had the patience, and your heart's never been in it. These recent blood-soaked wanderings of yours have really colored my views. You might work well in Military Engineering, as well…" Dockson posited.

"No, I assure you, I am much more comfortable on the battlefield." Nazh said.

Dockson pulled out some paper and an envelope. "I still can't figure out where you learned to fight. Definitely not Hoff, that is certain. Nor the Lord Ruler's army, or as a noble guard. You fight like an Allomancer, Nazh."

That was true, to an extent. Scadrial's native martial traditions capped at a certain point below other world's, with the exception of Allomancy. Many Hazekillers were indeed Allomancers, Mistings, extremely trained and specialized in their Allomantic power. Lurchers, Thugs, Smokers… but then there still was a cap, and they were trained to work with one another.

No, Nazh knew what his skills matched. A Mistborn, trained to fight alone and think on their feet. Only because of his vast experience, both in quantity and diversity, and youthful form could he come close to matching them. Scadrial's Investiture was much more visible than Threnody's Investiture, and much more accessible- although no people could choose to command the powers of the Metallic Arts.

Dockson furrowed his brow, stopping mid-writing. "Why not the position of captain? You could start there, and work your way up to general. I know you have the potential." Dockson said.

"I have never commanded a multiplication of men before. It takes a very different set of skills that I do not have. And so, as an officer. I will lead from the front, and the Republic's enemies will know a reckoning." Nazh boasted. "If I am capable of the position of general, I will earn it through experience."

"Will you still be disappearing?" Dockson asked.

"Yes, but I will try to work around the needs of the army- generally there's not a time limit on what I seek." Nazh spoke.

"Very good. And your… employer?" Dockson asked. This was a rough subject, but Nazh had found out they thought he worked for Klessandra Haught, and likely thought he was a nobleman- although they could never place him completely.

"My employer has agreed to loosen the terms of our agreement." Nazh said, not using the Canton-associated word 'contract' to hopefully increase Dockson's faith in him. "The idea of joining the RA is my own- I cannot let my skills go to waste when the world is in need of them."

"And that's a good choice you made indeed." Dockson said, folding the letter into an envelope, and sealing it shut with wax, imprinting it with the symbol of the Ministry of Republican Labor- plow and steam engine.

Handing it to him, Nazh nodded to Dox, got up, and began to leave the room, when Dockson said, "One more thing, Nazh."

Nazh turned, and asked, "Yes?"

"You should leave that woman's service, Nazh. You could do so much more than be a lackey for her. These days, pre-existing ties mean little, familial or contractual. Join us in full. There is no threat of retribution that can reach you, under my protection." Dockson said, with a smile.

"I will… consider it." Nazh said.

"All right, Nazh. Blessed be the New Republic." Dockson said.

"Blessed be the New Republic." Nazh said, stepping out of the office. He considered Dockson's offer. And that is precisely what he was afraid of.

---

The mists swirled below the tenement, like it was an island in an ocean of safety. Spook stood in the snow atop the roof, alone in a white world. Except when he burned tin. The stars glimmered faintly above, and the Keeps blazed with the light, fading back into the mists when he stopped burning, for his safety. He didn't need more than a light jacket, thanks to the warmth Allomancy granted. But he would not be alone for long.

OreSeur had gotten Mist a note, surprisingly difficult to do- he didn't appear at functions often, and so they had to track down his location, at a House Venture townhouse, but from there it was as easy as OreSeur taking the disguise of a young noble girl, and paying a noble guard to bring the 'dark and handsome' Mist a note- to meet him here, from 'his Spook'.

Spook remembered cringing and placing his face in his hands when OreSeur told him exactly how he got the Venture Mistborn the note. Now all he needed to do was wait, and see if Mist arrived tonight. OreSeur seemed confident Zane would have got it, but Spook wasn't so sure.

Spook shivered. What was he doing here, in the night and dark and cold, in Urteau, the capital of the Pretender Empire, having told a Mistborn of House Venture his location? But Mist didn't know he was a skaa half-breed, did he? And rumor had it of a few more legitimate ones running around, so he shouldn't being at risk of being put to death for his blood, would he? No, the problem was being put to death for being a Republican spy.

Spook burned tin, and heard the sound of slippered feet hitting a rooftop. So he got the note. Spook saw a coin shoot out of the mist, sliding into a nock in the rooftop. A shape appeared in the mist, and Mist gently landed. Now all Spook needed to do was convince the Mistborn, with just a few pointers from OreSeur. While his face flushed with anxiety, the cold quickly took the warmth away.

"So it was you. I thought you were behind this." Mist said.

"Of course, I signed the note, after all." Spook responded.

"If this is about obtaining my skills for Lord Entrone's petty ambitions, I am not interested." Mist said.

Spook smiled. OreSeur was right! House Entrone's apparent disgrace was the perfect cover for spying. "I am doing this of my own free will. I thought long and hard about what you said to me on the night of the Midwinter Masquerade, and well, I found some people who thought similarly. I was wondering if you'd like to join us."

And here came the tipping point. OreSeur there were two options. Either the Mistborn would decline and leave, or agree, and OreSeur insisted it would be trivial for him to break Spook out of imprisonment, if Mist decided to bring him back to torture him for information. Mist looked around, presumably burning tin to allow him to see or hear if this was some form of setup. He turned to Spook, when he saw there was no one. "Iconoclasts?" he whispered.

Spook nodded.

"First, I would like to get your name. We met in anonymous circumstances, and if I must trust you, I need your name. Mine is Zane." Zane said.

"I was truthful with my name, although I have had three names across my life, including this one. A great man gave me this name, a better man than my father, and it is a better name than the one I gave to myself." Spook said.

"You must have quite a story." Zane said.

"And so must you, given there were only rumors about you until the Midwinter Masquerade." Spook said.

"Alright." Zane breathed in. "Although I am expected to always fulfill my father's orders, he lets me practice, so I can be out most nights. Where can I meet your friends?" Zane asked.

"At the Entrone townhouse. Do you want to stay a while and talk?" Spook asked the Mistborn.

Zane shook his head. "Someone has to end up dead tonight that can't die by a guard's hand. Lord Ruler, sometimes I wish I were in Luthadel."

Spook smiled. "That can be done." he said.

"Really? Your friends have contacts there?" Zane asked.

"Just over the border, in the New Republic. A Mistborn would be immensely respected there. Two of the three are leaders of nations." Spook said.
Zane nodded. "Freedom and power… but it isn't right for me to betray my father."

This surprised Spook, as he could tell Zane hated Straff Venture, and so he set out to try and convince the Mistborn. "Great changes have come, Zane. Familial ties are coming after the ties of friends and communities. Eight years ago, I left my father in the dust. A cruel man who hated me for powers he could not understand. I believe there is a similarity between us there." Spook suggested.

Zane sighed. "I will visit as soon as I can. I should do the same, but… I need to ask someone first. Someone I can trust, and who I love. Goodbye Spook, and may I see you soon." Zane jumped off the rooftop, leaving the chill mists to swallow Spook into the night.

---

Vote for who or where you want to see a slice of the life of the Former Final Empire, of people we haven't seen much. Vote for three. The top one or two votes will be chosen.

[ ] Tevedian Tekiel
[ ] Kelsier's Crew
[ ] Elend
[ ] The Republican Army
[ ] The Synod
[ ] The Oligarchy of the Southern Islands
[ ] The Pretender Empire
[ ] The Steeled Empire
[ ] The Aspirant Empire
[ ] The Kingdom of the Burning Crescent.
[ ] Write-in