Morning in Austrex
And on the Winter Solstice, While Many made Merry, The Son of Man Endeavored to Bring the Commune to Heel, and the Shadow Chose to Bring Salvation to the World of Ash.

Mistborn: Smoke and Ash​






Revolution in the Final Empire​





The steamboat Pyroferrous departed Luthadel on a bright and clear winter morning, exiting the Port before turning to steam downriver. Coal smoke rose from its singular smokestack, and paddle wheels pushed against the water. Ashfalls weren't as common during the winter, typically, from a mix of rains and cold weather meaning the ash wasn't buoyed as high. But the sky was still full of haze. It was always like that, even if he had false memories of clear blue skies.

A boxing twirled through the air, although it was not moving as if a Coinshot Pushed it or Lurcher Pulled it. It was hanging in place, spinning around an axis, the red sunlight gleaming off it. The peak of a Mistborn's skill in iron and steel, it was said by many. Similarly, an iron spun through the air, although it wobbled often, and sometimes fell. Kelsier smiled, for he was training Vin in the metal he was most skilled at.

Vin spoke up. "Why does the coin not move? The boat is moving, shouldn't the coin move with the ground, instead of the boat?"

Ah Vin, minutes of observations leading to a well thought out question. "This is debated by scholars, but it seems like it's the individual's frame of reference. Our ground is the deck of the boat, and as we are standing on it, it appears to us that we are moving. So, the coin's velocity moves with the boat, and our velocity." Kelsier said.

"That makes sense." Vin said. "How are you acclimating to the spike?"

"Good. I have trouble remembering when I've felt better." Kelsier smiled. He stopped spinning the boxing, Pulling it into the palm of his hand, and felt something that he thought impossible a few short months ago. A feruchemical charge. The boxing was a metalmind, and it was his metalmind. He had spent the day experimenting with it, seeing what could be done, and how exactly feruchemy and compounding worked.

He had the basic rules down. Typical Feruchemists could only store in and tap a metalmind. Most attributes worked the same- you stored a percentage of an attribute, and you couldn't store 100%. He had tried at first, when he didn't know what he was doing, and he had been knocked out. Luckily, his health returned to full the moment he lost consciousness, and he woke up a few seconds later. Dangerous, with the spike newly in him and the hangover. He stored about 50%, and felt like hell for a bit, then moved to storing 20%. And then he clipped the boxing, burning a bit of its metal. His hangover went away, and his spike stopped throbbing.

But he had no health left over. He clipped the coin again, and stored in the small clipped piece of it, until it filled up- he ate and burned it, and stored a large percentage of his health in the boxing, and another clipped piece, the extra health from burning the small completely full clipped piece making him feel like he wasn't storing health at all. He supposed he would keep clipping and burning the boxing until what was left was full. The boxing already was hard to manipulate via allomancy.

After he finished the boxing, he supposed he would store in his hemalurgic spike. Marsh said he did that, as it was the largest piece of gold on his body. Kelsier knew why his spike was empty of a charge, and that was because the Inquisitor had tried to heal from getting its back spike ripped out by Marsh, draining it and perishing anyways.

Kelsier presumed he would find a good balance eventually, but he needed to work at getting a full metalmind first. He sat back down, and resumed clipping the boxing, burning the clips, and storing the excess health in more clips, putting the excess in the boxing. Soon enough, he filled up the boxing to full, and began clipping it and storing in another boxing. When that was filled up, he cut what was left of the boxing up, and stored the health in his spike, and even had enough to fill up a second boxing halfway.

Kelsier wondered what the limits of healing were. He could be stabbed and shot, sure. But what about being cut in half, or being struck by a cannonball, or getting a body part cut off? He should ask Sazed. He avoided telling anyone about his spike, not wanting Marsh to fret, or abandon his recovery to track him down. He only told Vin this morning, after they had departed Luthadel.

"So how long should it take for us to get to Austrex?" she asked.

"More quickly than the typical human, ox, or horse-pulled canal boat, that's for sure. Not only does this go at about five kilometers per hour, but we'll be going downstream, so the estimate is about seven kilometers per hour. So, we should get to Austrex tomorrow morning."

"Transport is getting fast." Vin said, awed.

Kelsier chuckled. "We're catching up. Classical Scadrial had many wondrous inventions, forcibly removed from our world by the Lord Ruler. When you're my age, you should be able to travel to anywhere in the former Final Empire in a month."

"Sazed showed me the drawing of that train. It's amazing that it was present in the past. What else is there?"

"Oh, so many things. Our ancestors waged their wars with hundreds of cannons, and every man in their armies had a rifle. They knew the secrets of lightning, in addition to the world being habitable in its entirety."

"But they didn't have Allomancy." Vin remarked.

"No, they didn't. It is said the Lord Ruler turned nine kings who bowed before him into Mistborn, using an unknown metal. There's also the rumors that Allomancy came with the mists… but I don't believe that." Kelsier said.

Vin shrugged. "Could be true. The mists love Allomancy. You know how they swirl about you when you're burning something."

Kelsier waved it off. "There's not enough evidence to say either way."

Tenes quickly passed, being the one of the two cities on the Channerel between Luthadel and Austrex. Kelsier found himself chatting with the crew of the Pyroferrous. The mechanist tending to the engine was particularly proud of it, as this ship had only come into existence after many revisions. There were two sorts of steam engines- low pressure engines, and high-pressure engines. Low pressure engines were what was used in the retooling of the various mills and forges of the cities, and in certain mines and factories in the Final Empire. This steamboat was powered by a low pressure engine.

The high pressure engine was the other sort of steam engine. It was unwieldy, and the couple of models assembled had exploded. The people who had preserved it down the centuries didn't think of its fragility, but they could keep on experimenting with various metals. By this time next year they should be able to get one working. The machinist smiled, explaining that the small size of the high pressure steam engine when compared to its power would allow for trains, and would replace the low pressure steam engines.

While Kelsier wouldn't say he understood all of this, he could definitely understand that a smaller more powerful engine would be better than a larger low power engine. And the thought of trains hurtling across the world was a good one.

But he could do more than think of a future that was a long and brutal war away. And that was politics. It was somewhat impressive that he could involve himself in politics in a small self-contained boat, but that was just what he was good at.

The crew of the steamboat were all former canal skaa, and he strove to learn about what happened to the third group of skaa since the Revolution. While trade had declined, resources still flowed, and they found themselves the main source of labor for both piloting, maintaining, and transporting ships. Some had settled, of course, but others had joined their ranks, to see what there was in the world, or to secure a reliable source of income.

For in the face of the lack of the New Republic in aiding them, a gang, the Ashen Veins, had stepped up. The gang had moved to aiding communities of canal skaa, pointing them in the direction of work, which, once found, proved to be reliable for months on end. Trade even was on the upswing, after the agreement with Terris and the Oligarchy of the Southern Isles. It wasn't that hard to be a canal skaa in the New Republic- especially when compared to the Final Empire, even if there was negligence on behalf of the state.

At least one of the canal skaa had been in the Eastern Dominance in the months after the Revolution. He hadn't seen much, but all but essential work dried up, so he worked on transporting arsenic ore, and he had seen an Inquisitor impale one of his fellow workers, and he got spooked, fled to Chathram, and from there into the New Republic. It was strange, he considered, that the Steeled Empire let refugees go without issue. No refugee group reported being molested by Inquisitors or the border guards- but few refugees said they were from the City of Seran.

The sun reached its peak, and Vin and he joined the boat workers for some bread and bean stew. Traditional skaa dish- he supposed that while working on the canals paid, it didn't pay enough to afford meat for every meal. Vin asked him a question. "Could you use a Keeper's goldmind if they stored their Identity?"

"I don't see why I couldn't." Kelsier remarked.

"Then… could you burn a Keeper's unkeyed goldmind?" she asked.

A revelation blessed Kelsier, the same one Vin apparently had had. "I should be able to. And you… should be able to burn an unkeyed goldmind. We should be able to burn any unkeyed metalminds. Vin, you've done it!" Kelsier laughed and was just about jumping for joy.

"This is it! The Aluminum of allomancy! Feruchemy is within our grasp!" Vin's excitement diminished, and she suddenly looked sallow. "Sazed and I tried this, and he framed it as… Allomancers stealing strength from the Terris people. We'll face some pushback from the Keepers."

"Damn, yeah. We'll be relying on handouts. Probably limited gold… but we have a ton of Inquisitor spikes, and once I determine if Hemalurgy in small quantities is safe, we can just give our mistborn Feruchemical gold." Kelsier said.

"So why can't we give you Feruchemical aluminum, or the Keepers Allomantic gold?" Vin asked.

"Because the metals needed to take those traits are undiscovered." Kelsier said.

"You haven't tested the new metals Hemalurgically, right?" Vin asked.

"No, I haven't. But I don't know how to start." Kelsier said. He had thought about this many times- and mostly, he needed people who would be willing to experiment on condemned nobles, who were trustworthy. The Keepers weren't willing, and neither was Marsh- but he thought the Ministry of War might.

"If you plan on investigating this third metallic art, this is the perfect time. There will be many captives taken in this war, and many of them we will be executing anyways. If you wait, I do not see another time in which this sort of testing will be possible." Vin said.

Oh, Vin, beyond her years in many ways. "You're right. The remaining Hemalurgic metals have to be in the Spiritual categories, given the way the chart's balanced out. The pushing lower metals are those that steal Allomantic and Feruchemical traits, while the Internal temporal metals fill that role in the temporal category, so it should be aluminum and duralumin. No, that doesn't make sense, the Final Empire could've used aluminum hemalurgically…"

"You need to experiment. And we should use every tool we have. In my experience, those who don't, die." Vin said.

"So many will die…" Kelsier said darkly.

After that, Kelsier found himself thinking of war. There were three armies that would be facing combat. The Army of the North led by Yeden, Army of the East led by Clubs, and the Army of the South, technically under Bazen's command? She had probably selected a delegate for that though. The Army of the North would sweep west, across the northern plain. The Army of the East would march first, taking Rive-juxta-Lutha, attempting to reach Samenflow before the marshes thawed in the spring. The Army of the South would withstand the sheer numbers of the Aspirant Empire, having turned Longsfollow into a veritable fortress, one that must be assailed, for its spot along the Cassern River making it impossible to pass on by. And an engagement that could be set was one that needed to be invested in.

But the Army of the South could not win the war in one battle, no matter how fortified and well-stocked Longsfollow was. And so, he needed to check on the Army of the South, and see how well Baz'en was doing. The Austrex Commune was the most steadfast ally of the New Republic, and was the furthest along to integration. Austrex must not fall. And for that to occur, the Army of the South must be expanded, to include at least a hundred thousand men, to hold off the Aspirant Empire.

He had heard that the army sizes were a bit lower, but surely all he needed to do was meet with Baz'en and make her consider the inevitable war. The Austrex cache would be a great aid to the Commune. He wondered how long he would need to stay in Austrex. Well, he would find out soon enough.



The sun had risen above the Verdigris Plateau by the time the Pyroferrous entered the harbor of Austrex. The ruddy sky was painted the pink and blue of dawn, a faint echo of the ancient age when the skies were clear. Fog clung to the surface of the Grand Laguna, an echo of the nightly mist, while gulls whirled overhead.

Kelsier noticed that it was the winter solstice- the ending of the old year, and the beginning of the next. Ten twenty-three… the first full year where the Final Empire was dead. He hoped they'd keep it that way. The superstitions of the canal skaa were fully visible- they said this was a time of darkness, where the walls between worlds were thinnest- they warned him to watch out for Mistwraiths, or the Lord Ruler coming to take his revenge. They agreed that he was a powerful Lord of Hell, ruling a large swathe of the ashen pit.

The Austrex harbor was something special- one of the largest in the Final Empire, and Austrex sat on a small peninsula jutting into the Grand Laguna, the largest city upon one of the central lakes. So many lakes surrounding the New Republic, and so underused, even for transportation.

But transportation was not a thing he was here for. Baz'en was awaiting his arrival, with a thousand soldiers, and tens of thousands of skaa- likely having skipped breakfast for him. The soldiers were lined up, keeping the crowd back from the dock, and two people were waiting for him- Baz'en Wraithkiller in a mistcloak, and two other people- a man, and a Keeper. Kelsier stepped off the gangway, onto the dock, in front of the two. "Welcome, Premier Minister. I hope Austrex is as welcoming as your home." she said.

Kelsier smiled. "I wish I could be here for pleasure, First Minister, but the state of the world renders that not the case. It has been a couple months since our last meeting. Tell me, who are your companions?"

"Why, this is Assemblyman Eufraso Steelburner, my friend and close accomplice, as well as the current general of the Southern Army. And this is the Keeper Axindweth, who has been a great aid in the construction of the Austrex Commune." Baz'en introduced the man, who bowed, and the Keeper, who curtsied her robes. Kelsier shook their hands.

"And this must be Vin!" Baz'en turned to Vin, almost leaning over her. "It's good to see the next generation. And there's a second young Mistborn woman in Luthadel, I've heard?"

"Yes, but she's with the Haughts." Vin said.

Baz'en tutted. "Can't trust nobles in this day in age, can we?"

Kelsier spoke up. "I would love to chat, but we're here on government business. Our search will be long- it's best if General Eufraso here mobilizes his men. The Steel Ministry buildings- there is a vast sub-basement below one of them. Search for low points- wine cellars, basements, and you, Eufraso, should be able to see a blue line pointing straight through the wall- although I believe only a Mistborn can open it. Come to me when you find it- or just the likely areas in each of the Steel Ministry buildings." The General nodded, turning and rallying his soldiers, to scour Austrex for the cache.

"So I suppose we do have some time, for them to find this sub-basement." Baz'en said.

"We do. What do you have in mind?" Kelsier asked.

"Axindweth here has been working on something amazing. Perhaps you would like to see it?"

"It would be great to see what accomplishments you have made in Austrex, Lady Keeper." Kelsier said to the Feruchemist.

"Then we will go to what used to be known as Keep Lekal, Premier Minister." Axindweth proclaimed.

"How much math will this include?" Vin asked, eyes narrowed.

"Quite a lot. I can teach you the basics, I think." Axindweth offered, smiling.

"No thank you. Kel, can I train with Baz'en? I've never trained with another Mistborn." Vin asked.

Kelsier turned to Baz'en, asking her a silent question. "Of course!" Baz'en said, "And don't worry, I'll take good care of her." The two ran off, Baz'en complimenting Vin ruthlessly.

The soldiers were departing, the crew of the Pyroferrous was leaving to spend however long in Austrex, and the crowd was closing in, to perhaps speak to him. Kelsier had only one route left- learning about whatever Axindweth wanted to show or teach him.



The two walked through the streets of Austrex, conversing. Axindweth had chosen physics as her Keeper's portfolio- the sciences of gravitation, chemistry, mathematics, the metallic arts, and more. She had a lab in the former Keep Lekal, where she wrested the secrets of the world- not that of history or government or engineering, although Baz'en funded her efforts based on how many needed texts she would provide the First Minister.

But something was more interesting, for now. This was the first time Kelsier had found himself in Austrex following the Revolution, and it had changed. It was much like Luthadel, but there was something else, in the air, and in the faces and words of its people. It took a moment, but Kelsier put his finger on it. Tension, as a result of division.

Baz'en's words when she came to Luthadel were reflected in the population of the Austrex Commune. Various sigils flew from stores and tenements, opposed to one another. The Spear and Book against the Ship, the Spear and Book against the Lighthouse. Iconoclasm against Commercantism.

There was a problem here, that hopefully could be resolved, or made to dwindle, before the war came. He would have to speak with Baz'en about many things, assuredly. But Kelsier had time- perhaps the situation with the Southern Army was better than he'd heard. At the very least, the cache would provide enough weapons to give the military of the Commune an edge.

They arrived at Keep Lekal. It wasn't like the one in Luthadel, shaped like a pyramid, instead being the more traditional noble keeps- in the model of the greatest churches, before the Ascension. House Lekal had nearby bankrupted their house building the Luthadel keep They slipped through a side door, moving through a short hallway, before exiting into a former dining room.

A large stained glass window made up one wall, illuminating the contents of the quite large room. The floor was stone, and he noticed portions of it were bleached from acid stains. And what Kelsier saw was a collection of curiosities. Various scientific instruments sat on tables, many glass jars sat on shelves, there were chalkboards filled with mathematical equations complete with symbols Kelsier had never seen, and there were various metalminds sitting on a bench. Was that a fish in a tank?

Kelsier approached the fish. A ray. "Why do you have a fish?" he asked Axindweth, smiling in the absurdity of whatever value the Keeper found in the creature.

Axindweth smiled. "That's a numb-ray. It is a very unique specimen, for it can generate electricity."

"A fish can generate electricity?" Kelsier asked, dumbfounded.

"It can. It has special organs that generate electricity." the Keeper said.

In a flash of insight, Kelsier realized the Keeper had cracked the secret of lightning. "How far have you gotten?" Kelsier asked Axindweth, smiling.

Axindweth laughed. "Far! I've been working on testing what little knowledge we have- I've reconfirmed that lightning is electricity, found that humans and animals utilize electricity to control their muscles, and I'm working on linking magnetism and electricity, and I think chemistry and electricity are linked."

"Magnetism and electricity are linked?" Kelsier asked.

"And possibly more! Come, I have a test I'd like you to see." Axindweth hurried over to one of her machines- copper wiring wrapped around an iron bar twisted into the shape of a horseshoe. She put on thick leather gloves, and grabbed a… thing of metal, metal circles of zinc and copper stacked in a cylinder. "Do not touch anything, Kelsier, too much electricity can hurt or even kill you."

Before assembling it, Axindweth got a compass, and placed it to the north of the instrument. "Watch the compass." she said, hooking up the thing of circles of zinc and copper to the copper wire. And to Kelsier's surprise, the compass' needle turned south, to point at the device.

"What is this? It wasn't a magnet before?" Kelsier asked, furrowing his brow.

"An electromagnet- a magnet created via electricity. Just like an ordinary magnet, but artificially created. As for this," she gestured at the stack of zinc and copper circles, "it's a pile battery- it utilizes a chemical reaction to generate a continuous electric current, as opposed to the spark of the batteries you've seen used in the typical Final Empire-era electrical experiments, or the shock of the numb-ray."

Kelsier nodded. "Does electricity have any practical uses?"

Axindweth smiled. "I've found several, and have records of more. First, electricity can be used to plate metal, which increases its strength and corrosion resistance. Second, I have been able to create some new gases and chemicals, or obtain rare gases and chemicals more easily, by using electricity to cause reactions in or between various substances. Third, I have been able to make new magnets- removing our reliance on limited deposits of naturally occurring magnetized metals. I've found that it is possible to generate electricity using magnetism, it is possible to turn electrical energy into motion and vice versa, and it is possible to generate a light which can match the brightness of limelight using electricity. For the less likely options, Classical texts make mention of using electricity to communicate a vast distance over wiring, as well as the reanimation of dead tissue- but even using very fresh human cadavers, I've not managed to get more than twitching."

"You've done a lot. Do you think you could replicate the limelights?" Kelsier asked.

"No… I need more facilities, and more hands. This is the best electrical lab in the entire former Final Empire, and all because I swept up half the equipment in Communard territory. The only people dabbling with electricity before were eccentric nobles, and there's not many left of those in the New Republic. It'll take decades to rebuild the general scientific base needed for this, as long as Terris remains as it is. You'd best stick to limelights." Axindweth said.

"You could work for the University in Luthadel?" Kelsier asked.

"No, I'm needed in Austrex. Baz'en isn't the best at statecraft, and we need to focus on the war instead of the sciences, despite how much I wish it weren't so. That's why you're in Austrex, right?" Axindweth asked, hopefully.

"Right. Damnable shame about your lack of facilities. The copper wiring, though- that reminds me of an attempt the University made to do that, using an unkeyed copper metalmind." Kelsier mentioned, off-handedly.

"Oh, right! I wanted to test something with you." Axindweth adjusted the connection between the pile battery and the electromagnet, loosening it so if either parts were moved, it would come apart. "Attempt to push or pull on the iron bar here, just enough to tip it over." she pointed to the electromagnet.

Kelsier burned steel, and lightly pushed on the electromagnet- it fell over with a clatter, disconnecting itself, and the compass' needle spun back towards Luthadel.

"Damn it…" Axindweth rubbed her eyes. "I thought that would work. But, I suppose the lack of a resistance proves something else."

"Like if I tried to push or pull on a full metalmind. But what does the absence of resistance prove?" Kelsier asked the Keeper.

"That the Metallic Arts are disconnected from electricity, chemistry, or magnetism. Come, let's examine my metalminds." Kelsier and Axindweth moved to another part of the room- many metalminds, marked with small notes of paper numbering them, atop shelves, along with papers with many, many calculations. "This is agonizing as it seems." Axindweth deadpanned. "All attributes- except the mess that is memory, vary depending on the individual."

"For instance, my baseline level of strength I store is much less than Vedzan's, and it would be the same for a sickly individual or a healthy individual for gold. Thanks to aluminum's Feruchemical property being discovered, however, it should be possible to establish a universal baseline unit to measure Feruchemical Investiture- I've even established a preliminary baseline based on myself alone, but I need more Feruchemists, and I would need to study Compounding to truly find the baseline."

Kelsier was feeling overwhelmed, but he knew that Axindweth likely knew something integral he did not. "So what's notable about the lack of resistance? And what's Investiture?"

Axindweth stammered. "I'm sorry, I got carried away there. It was previously believed that the charge in metalminds was a form of static electricity- I've run tests with my own metalminds, there being no resistance to the flow of electricity, and even tried to move the charge in a full metalmind into a near-empty one using electricity. That test we just did was just the final nail in the coffin- if a 'Feruchemical charge' was electricity, or related to it, there would be resistance to the flow, and it would act as if you were manipulating a metalmind with iron and steel Allomancy. As that does not happen, and I doubt gravitation is responsible, I theorize there is a third force, which provides the power of Allomancy, and makes up both Feruchemical and Hemalurgic charge."

"Don't metals power Allomancy?" Kelsier asked.

"No." Axindweth shook her head. "It's hard to explain… but imagine you have a lock, key, and a door, or perhaps a container. This is the same structure for Feruchemy, as well- I don't know how Hemalurgy works enough to judge, although I would like to. The lock is the ability to use the metallic arts- something few people have. The key is the metals, likely the specific axial structure of individual metals. The door is the source of power, of Investiture- in Feruchemy, someone's inborn attributes when storing, or the Investiture in their metalminds when tapping. In Allomancy, the door is… a source of power. While energy cannot be created or destroyed, it's not the metals- I learned that from someone else."

Kelsier nodded. "Locks, keys, and doors…" he muttered, trying to map this system to hemalurgy. "Metal would be the key in all three, the charge in a spike would be the door… but what's the lock? The bindpoints?"

"I'd need to test more." Axindweth said. "Some ancient religions mention three realms- including that of the Terris mythology, with the Feruchemical categories of metals being based around this. This test proves that these three realms exist, or at least there is a non-Physical charge that can occupy the same space as a Physical charge. The Physical is our realm, of planets and stars, the Cognitive is the realm of the mind, and the Spiritual is the root of the Metallic Arts… and Gods."

"Do you propose to measure God?" Kelsier asked, smiling.

"No… I know next to nothing about this theory. Not even how to test it. But I have made progress on the Spiritual Metals you have discovered." Axindweth said, getting out a duraluminmind. "This was unusually difficult to figure out- like the rest of the Spiritual metals. But, Kelsier, it stores Connection. I'm tapping it right now." Axindweth tapped a bracelet around her wrist.

"And what does it do?" Kelsier asked, although he could already guess, now that he knew the term Connection. Axindweth was speaking with an Austrese accent. And… why did he trust her so, going with her experiments and not asking questions?

"Many things. I gain the local accent when tapping enough, and I might be able to speak other languages using it, in regions where people speak languages other than Demotic. Other people trust and remember me more when tapping it, and when storing it, people do not trust me, overlook me, or more often than not, forget me. I stored up a large quantity of it when I figured that out- I completed a lot of experiments in the free time it gave me, when Baz'en was not asking over every little thing predating the Ascension." Axindweth smiled. He didn't want to tell her to stop tapping it… damn it, it was altering his mind!

"Please stop tapping it. What properties of the other Spiritual metals have you found?" Kelsier requested. He then felt something change, and his suspicions of this Keeper increased- but she still seemed like someone happiest alone in a room doing equations than a spy.

"I just wanted to get your ear, but that was a mistake, I think." Axindweth said, having slipped back into her Terris accent.

"No, this is all really interesting- I assure you. Before this, I thought the Metallic Arts were one of the most unexplained and unexplored sciences- and it goes deeper than I thought. This all has grand implications- who knew you could measure the relation between a person, and the culture of their land? If you want, after things are more stable, you would make a great Deputy Minister of the Department of Allomancy, as one day, we'll need to know the peacetime uses of these abilities." Kelsier offered the Keeper, smiling.

"Thank you so much." Axwindeth smiled. "I think you wanted me to cover Chromium specifically- that is Fortune. It is not luck, despite what many would claim. Luck is skill, or random. A cardsharp, or a cheater, many would claim to be lucky, while it is truly skill. As for randomness, the roll of the dice is not truly random, depending on what face the dice was thrown on, with what velocity, and the wind- and it may be possible for the most experienced to judge that."

"That is Fortune, or a close enough analogy to it, I think. My experiments are crude, but I felt you coming, Kelsier. I see the most potential in this metal, at least until we discover the External Pushing Spiritual Metal. Think about what it could store, Kelsier… Fortune, Identity, Connection, what fundamental thing would it store?"

Kelsier had caught on, and there was only one other fundamental thing it could be. He smiled as he spoke. "Investiture. All-purpose metalminds… if we gave a Mistborn Feruchemical Investiture-storage, then they could compound Allomantic ability. I suppose that's the limit of the Metallic Arts- excepting the mystery of what atium is, if it's not on the chart."

Axindweth's smile bloomed into a grin. "I believe that the ability to use a Metallic Art is also a form of Investiture."

No, that wasn't possible. "No, how could that be… no, the ability to use a Metallic Art IS an attribute, one linked with Investiture…" Kelsier looked up, with a grin that matched Axindweth's. "The democratization of Feruchemy is at hand. We just need that fourteenth metal."

Kelsier glimpsed the future, a world in which all sixteen metals were known- where anyone could access Goldminds, filled to the brim with health, produced from compounding. Where soldiers could pick up an… unsealed metalmind, and gain the ability to accelerate coins or grow many times stronger than an ordinary man.

But what use was a future of ash? "What do you know of the Well of Ascension, Axindweth?" he asked the Keeper.

"Nothing more than the Obligators said, unfortunately, as well as the Journal of Alendi. Most things about Terris were removed from the records. Used by the Lord Ruler to make himself a Mistborn, and change the very world." Axindweth responded.

"I should ask Sazed if he has any idea where it is. We have the journal, it should be possible to find, if the Lord Ruler didn't bury it under a thousand tons of rock. This meeting has been fruitful, and I hope to see you working in Luthadel in several years." Kelsier said.

"Thank you for your faith in me, Premier Minister. I wish you well on your ventures in Austrex, and hope you find what you are looking for." and they parted, Kelsier taking to the rooftops to find Baz'en and Vin.



Now Kelsier has seen the city of Austrex, he must decide his primary goal while he is in the Second City of the Republic. The Austrex Commune has several large issues, and the war for the fate of the world will not wait for these to be solved. However, Kelsier's word and determination is unparalleled, and he can fix one of these issues, if he puts his mind to it, even if only spends a few brief days in the city- after all, if there is a Cache in Austrex, some of its resources could be used to fuel his efforts.

[ ] The Communard Army. From what Kelsier has heard, the Communard army is not adequate, and is slow in building up. This cannot continue. Austrex must be able to resist the Aspirant Army, even if it cannot defeat it. Kelsier will investigate why the army is limited, and do what he can to increase the amount of trained men in the army. There is no reason to have a state if it cannot defend itself.

[ ] The Political Divisions. There is an ever-present tension between the Iconoclasts and Commercantists in Austrex. A house divided against itself cannot stand. Kelsier will investigate the reason behind these political divisions, and see what can be done to end them, or at least diminish them. There is no reason to have an army without a functional state.



Nazh shoved open the stone door, which toppled to the dirt below. He panted heavily, but had to keep running. He whirled around, finding himself in a graveyard bathed in red sunlight and falling ash, and having come out of a mausoleum. No, not in a graveyard! Ash and shadows, the worst place to fight one of them. A manor house sat quietly in the distance, built in a Daysider style.

He found a treeline, and darted for it. He scrabbled over the iron fence at the edge of the graveyard, his hat falling off in the process. Damn, just when he needed a hat, amidst the falling ash. At least his coat didn't get stuck. Luckily, Nazh got into the treeline, quickly becoming covered by the forest, when the thing, of spikes and shadow, emerged from the underground. Or was it a forest? The trees were evenly spaced, all pines, and the ground was covered by nothing larger than a weed. A tree farm, for turpentine for camphine oil, to power the lamps of this world.

He heard rustling in the treetops. Helmore! The thing likely couldn't see him if he was standing behind a tree- he carried no metal, and trees were full of metal. Especially on Scadrial.

Nazh whispered a quick prayer as he slipped behind another tree, pulling his blunderbuss pistol out of his coat. Adonalsium, let his plan work… it was weak from the fight, it could be slain!

"Your God cannot save you, wretch. He is dead, and Ruin reigns." the gravelly voice taunted, an unknown distance away.

"My God is not either of those." Nazh boasted. "Every action your lord takes is following a plan laid down ten thousand years ago."

"You're one of the interlopers, aren't you? Kar will reward me handsomely for your capture…" the voice stopped suddenly.

Nazh closed his eyes, reaching out, sensing the life in the area. Amidst nothing but trees and the few small animals that hadn't been scared off, it stuck out like a glowing mushroom. He waited, feeling it move around- falling gently right behind him. Nazh whirled around, finding the Inquisitor standing there, with a too-wide grin on its face, its robe a cloak of shadow. He pulled the trigger, filling its chest and skull with shot of rock. Blood spattered onto his coat and cloth mask.

The thing stood there for a second, a confused look on its face, before falling over, dead. A pyrite flash pan worked, combined with a wooden barrel to not give its Allomancy any grip on the gun. Nazh kneeled down, pulled back its cloak of shadow, feeling at its ribs, finding the spike of gold, and removing it with a glass knife, along with the right steel spike in its eye, and one of the bronze spikes in its ribs. All he could carry.

He didn't remember how he found his way back to Vorzeth, but he was standing over the dying Keeper, in one of the many tunnels that ran below Chathram. Vorzeth was leaning against the rough rock wall of the tunnel, carved centuries ago by some noble. The only source of illumination was a small ventilation shaft in the roof.

"Oh thank God you prevailed against it. I thought… you were it coming back to haul me away." Vorzeth's lips were flecked with bloody spittle. He didn't have long, the coin wounds being too much for him.

"Is there any way to secure your salvation?" Nazh asked, kneeling before the living well of knowledge.

Vorzeth coughed blood. "It is too late for me. But my discoveries won't pass with me. Take what I found, tell of the Synod of my death, return to Luthadel." Vorzeth handed Nazh the bag containing the ancient dates, and pressed two coins into his hand- one was a silver coin of Chathram, and the other was a clip, that the Inquisitor had used to mortally wound Vorzeth. "The clip is an unkeyed metalmind. Any Keeper will be able to tap it." Nazh took his hand, holding it. But Vorzeth didn't die.

"Are you sure your time has passed?" Nazh asked the Keeper.

"As you know, my associates in Chathram up above were found out, and got hooks through their throats. There will be people sent once the Inquisitor doesn't come back, and you said you were here alone. To survive, I would need intensive medical care, or an unkeyed goldmind from a Keeper- impossible to get here. I'm dead, Nazh. You must save yourself." Vorzeth said.

"But they will locate you, extract everything they can, and that event cannot occur." Nazh implored.

"If you can bear the guilt, then kill me. I will die anyways, indeed, it is a better death than the one the Inquisitors will provide." Vorzeth reasoned.

Nazh pulled out the spike of gold from his satchel. A chill ran down his spine. "Are you willing to sacrifice yourself even further, for the aid of all free men? I assure you, despite what they say, your immortal soul is not at risk."

"Ah, Hemalurgy. Just… make it quick." Vorzeth said, and closed his eyes.

Nazh raised up the spike, and plunged it into Vorzeth's arm. The spike glided right through the flesh, and Vorzeth let out only a gasp before he died.

Nazh picked up the spike, saddened. The toll of war… no matter how much he sallied across the cosmere, no matter how much he saw and how old he got, there were things he'd never get used to. He'd better get out of here, though. But then, Nazh found his arm moving against his will. He was shocked to see it plunge the spike into his ribs, with a sharp pain.

Nazh looked down to see his arms wither away to a black husk, and then crumble into ash, being replaced with a white translucent image of what once was. A voice spoke, a harsh and grating tone, gloating. You thought you could escape my sight, Nazrilhof? Thought you could outwit a Shard? This is what I will do to you, Threnodite, and the Darksider you brought with you.

A feeling of visceral terror filled Nazh, as he felt two spikes of cold steel appear in his eye sockets. He found himself overlooking Luthadel. And the city was burning.



Nazh woke up. His body was immersed in tepid water, and all it took was fluttering his eyelids for him to remember where he was. He had fallen asleep in the wooden bathtub. After checking his ribs for that gold spike that was not there, finding only a small cut, Nazh sighed, laying back, enjoying the memory of heat, and pondering over this nightmare.

He thought they were dwindling- he hardly had any on the road from Luthadel to Chathram and back, and he had noticeably fewer in Chathram itself. But now they were back. That one on the ship, and then this one. It definitely wasn't Ruin speaking to him in a vision, it was too dream-like, and there were too many inaccuracies.

Everything was a mix between the entire Cosmere, with a Scadrian setting. But mostly Threnody and Scadrial. Shade-Inquisitors popped up in that last one- an impossibility. Was he haunted by killing Vorzeth? He did it at his behest, and fulfilled his last requests. That should be enough for his spirit to rest in peace- although a piece of his soul was now on that spike.

Was Ruin really responsible? He had started getting nightmares just after he decided to attempt to save Scadrial, with Khriss and him relocating to the Physical… right before Kelsier had destroyed half the Pits of Hathsin, and as such the easiest way on and off Scadrial. There was another conceivable route, but he would only use that in an emergency- and it was due to become unusable no matter what happened in a year or two.

Yes, the nightmares had started after he had learned he was stuck on this world. That was when he felt he had to see this through. And he had shouldered the burdens of saving Scadrial, solely upon himself. How had he gotten so attached to this planet where ash fell from the sky so much so he constantly had to wear a mask, and the mists obscured the stars every night? Dammit, if he didn't love this world!

But there had to be a better way. He needed to reduce the stress, he couldn't be single-handedly responsible for saving Scadrial, after all, he had basically no idea on how to go about that. Maybe Khriss would have some ideas. And if relieving the stress didn't relieve the nightmares… then Ruin knew he was present, and he had bigger issues.

Nazh got up, a course of action set in his mind. He should go to Khriss, and bring back what he found in Chathram.



Nazh walked up the steps. Tourneur was a small city, but that still meant it had well over a hundred thousand inhabitants. The cities were comparable to some of the largest in the Cosmere- The Final Empire attempted to make up for most of the world being a sun-scorched desert.

At least there wasn't looking to be a famine as a result of various dominances and food sources being cut off, thanks to a reduction in food waste, and a projected agricultural output increase thanks to the adoption of many farming tools and introduction of cattle and horses to aid skaa farmers. Although the crop planted last spring was the one feeding them now- it felt like it had been longer since the Final Empire dominated the world.

Nazh entered into Khriss's study, where she was, as usual, writing. She lived in this shop's upstairs, having paid in aluminum. Her study was also lined with aluminum foil- It was significantly out of the way- but that was how Khriss liked it. It was him sallying out into the Physical, bringing back whatever Khriss wanted, with Khriss staying in the Cognitive. But this time, Khriss had come onto the stage, joining him in playing his role.

"Khriss, now I'm feeling better, let's cover what occurred on my latest expedition. I obtained the map of Old Saran, before the Lord Ruler Ascended. And some spikes, taken from one of the Inquisitors in the Chathram." Nazh placed the crumbling manuscript, sealed in a folder, on her desk. Khriss had set up her mobile chemistry and investiture set in the back of the study.

"Welcome back, Nazh. How difficult was it?" Khriss placed her pen down, gesturing Nazh to take a seat, which he did. The room was very clean, with hardly any specks of ash- that ash room was effective in keeping the space clean.

"I slew it only after some difficulty. I became involved in the New Republic's efforts as typical, however- the Keeper Vorzeth was there, looking for artifacts predating the Ascension. He found some- ancient dates, seeds predating the Ascension. They still carried the seed of life, even after the passing of a millenia. He was found out, his contacts in Chathram slain, and a Steel Inquisitor was sent to pursue him. He and I fought it, but he was fatally wounded, but it weakened the Inquisitor enough for me to slay it." Nazh knew Khriss would not like that.

"You killed a Steel Inquisitor?" Khriss exclaimed. "The Seventeenth won't be happy."

"Bah, the Seventeenth is too scared to come to Scadrial. They're even scared of coming into the Cognitive, even though Hoid's very blatantly intervening. We have free reign over this planet- and I used nothing that I cannot obtain here. I acquired several Hemalurgic spikes from the Inquisitor, and also slew the Keeper Vorzeth- at his request- by using the Inquisitor's Feruchemical gold spike on him. You will be able to experiment with Hemalurgy, without anything weighing on your conscience." Nazh said.

"That's great, but… Nazh, you've been doing a lot. Every chance you get, you go somewhere on Scadrial, and do all you can to carve out an opening for the Republic. You're high strung, I can tell. You're also having nightmares- have you tried aluminum foil yet?" Khriss asked.

"Ruin cannot be influencing me- it would spell doom for our efforts before they even began. Can't sleep with aluminum foil on my head, anyways." Nazh brushed off her concern.

"Then what would cause you to be less stressed?" Khriss asked.

Nazh considered this, truly. "We need to stop pretending we're not intervening. Scadrial was set back for a thousand years, and it was criminal of us to just let the Final Empire continue its reign unopposed. But we can right those wrongs, and I know what we must do. I must join the Ministry of War in some fashion- bloody helmore, I can't sit at a desk when damnation is at hand! I will be able to carry out your requests, and the Republic's efforts, in a unified fashion. And as for you… Khriss, you need to join the University. Help them in catching up, exploring the limits of the Metallic Arts. Shadows, a path lies to salvation, Khriss. We just need to act."

Khriss sighed. "If you wish, you can join the Ministry of War. I'm not going to aid the University, though, Nazh- I believe that we shouldn't intervene- I don't have the capabilities to do so effectively, and I do not want this to become a regular thing in the future- the Seventeenth won't know, but they will know if we intervene in the future." Khriss said.

"How can you not? Scadrial will burn!" Nazh exclaimed.

"Many worlds suffer- it is a natural thing in the Cosmere. Do you suggest that we attempt to save Ashyn from its eternal conflagration, put down Odium once he breaks his chains again, overthrow empires across the worlds, or bring innumerable quantities of silver to Threnody to put down the shades?" Khriss asked.

And a fire lit in Nazh's mind, the words of dissuasion, of impossibilities made possible. He saw clearly the road he must take. "Yes… yes, I do. And there is only one power in the Cosmere that can do that." he said, smiling.

"Are you an Iconoclast, Nazh?" Khriss asked.

"I do not know what I am, but I do know that Scadrial's best chance at survival lies in the New Republic. They have lit a fire that cannot be put out. And if there lies a chance to save my home world, I will take it." Nazh said.

"Nazrilhof, Scadrial has incredible technological progression! They're already catching up to where they were a thousand years ago- smokestacks are becoming an ever-present sight in Luthadel. If they surmount this crisis, they will be unfettered- their Shards are chained. And if they gain access to the cosmere… it will be forever changed." Khriss said in one last attempt to convince him.

"We knew this would occur one day. If it did occur, why would it not be Scadrial? And better the Republic than The Final Empire or Imperial Khlennium." Nazh said. "I'm going to need the revolver, the special one."

Khriss sighed. "I can't dissuade you, it seems. But wouldn't you be fighting Allomancers?"

"Not that common in the sorts of wars the Republican Army will be fighting. While nobles will naturally be more present on the battlefield, only one out of a hundred know they have Allomantic abilities. Coinshots and Lurchers are one in four allomancers, just overrepresented, for their ability to act as a firearm in a land without them. But that is changing, Khriss." Nazh stood up.

"I wish you luck, even if I disagree." Khriss said.

"And you as well. Goodbye, I will return in two weeks, to see if you need anything you cannot get in this city or Luthadel." Nazh picked up the special revolver from the false-bottomed cupboard where it was hidden, as well as grabbing an aluminum-lined pouch, as well as a nightcap, lined with aluminum. Shadows, so many precautions! But if he could get a good night's sleep, maybe that would be for the best. He caught Khriss smiling out of the corner of his eye as he walked out that door. He hoped Khriss would come to his reasoning one day.



Frost clung to branches and the brown twigs of bushes, with an black slush on the edge of the trail, slippery underfoot, shining in the sun's rays that peered through the haze. Smoke from the fires of the camp rose high in the distance, and laughter paired with joyful screams rang out, for the soldiers had captured a mistwraith.

"It's just over the hill!" Captain Shum yelled, smiling, to General Yeden, who slogged through the slush, hands in the pockets of his thick coat.

"I know, I know! It's bloody cold, and you know full well I think we should be all back in Mantiz, Captain, training for the war, maybe inside one of those warm Keeps." Yeden complained.

"This is training- rumor has it that the Nobles, and as such the Aspirants, have access to mistwraith spies. And we have to let the men have some fun- the Premier stole smiles and laughter back for us. What good is our freedom if we can't enjoy it? At least, that's what I've learned from him." Captain Shum said.

"We've learned so many things from him, haven't we? It feels like so long ago that I scoffed at his proclamations, and took refuge in ignorance and apathy. I've learned that anything is possible, with enough determination, empires can fall and gods can die." General Yeden said.

"And demons can be tracked, found, and captured." Captain Shum grinned.

The Captain and the General crested the hill, and Yeden peered around, eyes settling on the stone-lined pit the men had used to capture the mistwraith. His eyes narrowed, as if he had trouble believing what he was seeing. "Dear God!" Yeden yelled, although it had a tinge of amazement to it.

"It's hideous, ain't it?" Captain Shum smiled, as the two men descended the slope to the pit. And it was hideous indeed. It had translucent skin, with the texture of muscle, wrapped around various bones. Rib cages were as far down as he could see, but a few limbs- one was a cluster of bird talons atop a cow's leg bone, another a human hand at the end of a tail, prodded the tied together mesh of logs at the top of the pit. It wasn't having much luck, however, thanks to some large stones that weighted the mesh down, and the beast couldn't manuever its dozen loathsome legs to put pressure against it.

The beast looked like it was looking at the crowd of people, mostly soldiers, their families, and some skaa from nearby villages and plantations, but Shum knew it couldn't see, given the cow, badger, and human skulls the demon had as heads didn't have eyes.

"How did you capture it?" General Yeden asked in awe, as the two men walked to the edge of the pit, to look down at the mistwraith.

"It's not as dangerous as the stories presume. I tracked it for several days, and the demon didn't kill anything larger than small animals. We found this pit during that, the local nobles having used to hunt in these woods, and I came up with the idea to lure it into this pit. We built that mesh, and another mesh of flimsy twigs, covered it with leaf litter, and put a dead goat on top of it. The beast wouldn't go in, though- so I and a few other men pushed it in with some pikes and sticks, learned that on the plantation with the cows I handled. Nothing worse than a few bruises and a broken arm, from where it kicked a man." Captain Shum explained, pointing to the soldier with an arm in his sling, laughing as he told a group of children the same story, albeit more exaggerated.

"So it's nothing like the rumors? No ambushes, no taking your faces and laughing as you slay the wrong imposter, no magic, Allomantic or otherwise?" General Yeden asked.

Captain Shum shook his head. "No, it's just a beast. Even followed us while we were tracking it, and hasn't learned to fear man. Tried to run when we forced it between the pikes and the pit, and only lashed out when it realized we weren't going to let it escape. I don't even think it hunts anything larger than maybe a badger- we strung up a plantation-lord here five months ago, and the skaa later reported that the body went missing, assuredly eaten by a mistwraith. Well, see that broken leg bone?" Shum pointed to a barely-visible bone, a fracture wrapped in muscle to prevent it from giving out. "I broke that bastard's leg himself, and there it is. It primarily eats whatever dead people or animals it can find. It might be able to eat a small child or baby, but other than that, it's harmless." he said.

"So I suppose that the rumors about the Aspirants having mistwraith spies is false." Yeden said, and remained silent for a minute, as he mulled something over. "Could you transport this beast back to Mantiz?" General Yeden asked.

"It'd be hard, but it could be done. There's a road not too far from here, could shepherd it to a livestock cart. What are you thinking?" Captain Shum asked.

"Oh, just that it'd be good for defeating all the misassumptions about mistwraiths we have, and maybe learning the roots of all these legends. It's downright frightening… but it's clearly an animal. Not a demon." General Yeden squatted, looking into the sockets of the cow's skull.

"And we could charge a clip per family, get some extra cash in our coffers!" Captain Shum proposed.

"It'll be the rage in Mantiz, won't it?" General Yeden said, staring intently at the mistwraith. "Kelsier, is that what you did with Renoux?" he muttered.

Captain Shum was about to ask what Yeden meant, when he heard his name being called. He saw his wife and daughter coming down the trail, and he hurried to embrace them, and laughed as his daughter squealed "Eww!" upon seeing the mistwraith. Today was a great winter solstice, and the best he'd ever had, Shum thought.



Eli kneeled in the cage. He had been in this jail for months, but he refused to languish in captivity like the other prisoners. He maintained his strength by doing stretches, and many intensive exercises. He was blessed with power, power he had only tasted sparingly, and so he needed to cultivate it, to make it more potent when he could finally wield it again.

It was strange- they were feeding him well, better than he had been when he was just a skaa on the streets of Seran. There was much time to think. Were they keeping him in storage, like a pig in a nobleman's keep, to devour his soul at a later date? Why that gladiatorial fight? Did a warrior's soul taste better than a common man's? But they also said he didn't have a soul.

What was the truth? He thought too much, sometimes, always got him in trouble. But he couldn't see why the Inquisitors kept him. Perhaps they were more like men than he thought. Taking pleasure in a fight, albeit one more brutal than Eli had ever seen. No, it just didn't add up. But Eli was certain in one thing.

He needed to escape. His best chance was with Allomancy, but he only had that power when he ate pewter. And there was none of it given to him, except at the gladiatorial matches. And they gave it to him with something else, that made him throw up when he calmed down after a fight. And they were there, attending the matches. One, two, never more than three. He couldn't run away from one, and he wasn't sure if he could kill one.

He wished the other prisoners were less wary of him. They weren't all thrown into the ring at once, so all the new ones quickly learned that he was the victor, and shied away from him. There was that pretty girl in the next cell, that spoke with him rarely, even if she was shy. If it was possible, he would escape with her.

And then, dozens of guards came in. They opened up his cell, and clamped him in manacles, along with seven others, dragging them off through dim corridors to the stadium. They force fed him a bar of pewter, washed down with water containing something else that would limit its permanence in his body, before taking off his manacles, and shoving him out a thick wooden door, and he heard a bar of wood being slid into place behind him, preventing escape.

Once again, he found himself in the arena, the crimson sun high above, in a smoky sky. The raven-masked Inquisitor sat in the seat of honor, silently observing the stadium. There were less watchers here today. He had no idea why they fluctuated so. And then he saw a horrifying sight. The girl was standing in one of the corners of the stadium, looking hopeless, at a short sword in her hands. Eli reached within himself, finding a source of power, and kindled it, his soul erupting with Allomantic fire.

This time, he had a metal mace laid in front of him. He picked it up, and slowly walked forwards. He found the rules the Inquisitors laid out bent easy for him, and he stood some distance from his original starting position, looking at the girl.

"Begin." the raven-masked Inquisitor said. Eli charged towards the girl, surprising someone who saw her as an easy target. The man fell in seconds, blood spilling upon the sand. The girl screamed when Eli approached her, and so he turned, standing some distance, to defend her. Minutes passed, where the girl quailed in her corner, not daring to move, while Eli struck down all that came near.

Soon, the only people that were left were Eli and the girl. The crowd stayed silent, the inscrutable Inquisitor observing the arena, as Eli stoked his anger, to keep from throwing up the pewter. Minutes passed, and the girl threw up her metal. The Inquisitor raised an arm, and pointed to the girl. "Kill her." he commanded.

"No." Eli said sternly. "You demon, if you want her dead, you will have to get through me first." he readied the mace. "I will send you back to the pit whence you came!"

The Inquisitor shifted. "So be it." it said in a monotone. It threw itself into the air, landing in front of him. The Inquisitor struck with a flurry of blows, but Eli could match it. He felt hopeful for one great moment, that these demons in the skin of men could be defeated, and then his hopes were dashed as an unknown force yanked the mace out of his hands.

Eli then felt nothing but crushing anguish and shame. He sank to the sand below, throwing up almost immediately, retching onto the ground, and falling flat. He tried to reach for the bar of pewter, but his hand sank into the vomit as he gave up.

He caught the Inquisitor scooping the girl up from the corner of his eyes, and then him, and he could not protest, the anguish he was feeling being too great. Why did he think he could save her? Better just cooperate. Now both of them would die. That was the way of the world.

Eli regained awareness when he found himself being thrown down onto a stone slab, hard, and the girl was thrown, screaming, on top of him. He heard a pounding sound, and only realized what was going on when a sharp pain in his ribs started. It grew and grew, the girl's blood spilling over his chest, until the girl's screams suddenly stopped, and Eli remembered nothing more but blood and pain.



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
 
Oh Boy Mistwraithmas!
Note: the following post, in addition to not being canon, contains Era 2 spoilers and minor The Lost Metal Spoilers. Enjoy!​



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!
 
Midday in Austrex
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
 
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