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"Tomorrow," one of the men said. "Quellion tries to keep the dates quiet, but they get out. There will be executions near Marketpit. Be there."
Even now, I can barely grasp the scope of all this. The events surrounding the end of the world seem even larger than the Final Empire and the people within it. I sense shards of something from long ago, a fractured presence, something spanning the void.
I have delved and searched, and have only been able to come up with a single name: Adonasium. Who, or what, it was, I do not yet know.
39.
TENSOON SAT ON HIS HAUNCHES. Horrified. Horrified.
Ash rained down like shards of a broken sky, floating, making the very air look pocked and sickly. Even where he sat, atop a windswept hill, there was a layer of ash smothering the plant life. Some trees had branches broken by the weight of repeated ash pileups.
How could they not see? he thought. he thought. How can they hide in their hole of a Homeland, content to let the land above die? How can they hide in their hole of a Homeland, content to let the land above die?
Yet, TenSoon had lived for hundreds of years, and a part of him understood the tired complacency of the First and Second Generations. At times he'd felt the same thing himself. A desire to simply wait. To spend years idly, content in the Homeland. He'd seen the outside world-seen more of it than any human or koloss would ever know. What need had he of experiencing more?
The Seconds had seen him as more orthodox and obedient than his brethren, all because he had continually wanted to leave the Homeland and serve Contracts. The Second Generation had always misunderstood him. TenSoon hadn't served out of a desire to be obedient. He'd done it out of fear: fear that he'd become content and apathetic like the Seconds and begin to think that the outside world didn't matter to the kandra people.
He shook his head, then rose to all fours and loped off down the side of the hill, scattering ash into the air with each bound. As frightening as things had gotten, he was happy for one thing. The wolfhound's body felt good on him. There was such a power in it-a capacity for movement-that no human form could match. It was almost as if this were the form he always always should have worn. What better body for a kandra with an incurable wanderl.u.s.t? A kandra who had left his Homeland behind more often than any other, serving under the hated hands of human masters, all because of his fear of complacency? should have worn. What better body for a kandra with an incurable wanderl.u.s.t? A kandra who had left his Homeland behind more often than any other, serving under the hated hands of human masters, all because of his fear of complacency?
He made his way through the thin forest cover, over hills, hoping that the blanket of ash wouldn't make it too difficult for him to navigate. The falling ash did affect the kandra people-it affected them greatly. They had legends about this exact event. What good was the First Contract, what good was the waiting, the protection of the Trust? To most of the kandra, apparently, these things had become a point unto themselves.
Yet, these things meant meant something. They had an origin. TenSoon hadn't been alive back then. However, he had known the First Generation and been raised by the Second. He grew up during days when the First Contract-the Trust, the Resolution-had been more than just words. The First Contract was a set of instructions. Actions to take when the world began to fall. Not just ceremony, and not just metaphor. He knew that its contents frightened some of the kandra. For them, it was better that the First Contract be a philosophical, abstract thing-for if it were still concrete, still relevant, it would require great sacrifices of them. something. They had an origin. TenSoon hadn't been alive back then. However, he had known the First Generation and been raised by the Second. He grew up during days when the First Contract-the Trust, the Resolution-had been more than just words. The First Contract was a set of instructions. Actions to take when the world began to fall. Not just ceremony, and not just metaphor. He knew that its contents frightened some of the kandra. For them, it was better that the First Contract be a philosophical, abstract thing-for if it were still concrete, still relevant, it would require great sacrifices of them.
TenSoon stopped running; he was up to his wolfhound knees in deep black ash. The location looked vaguely familiar. He turned south, moving through a small rocky hollow-the stones now just dark lumps-looking for a place he had been over a year before. A place he'd visited after he had turned against Zane, his master, and left Luthadel to return to the Homeland.
He scrambled up a few rocks, then rounded the side of a stone outcrop, knocking lumps of ash off with his pa.s.sing. They broke apart as they fell, throwing more flakes into the air.
And there it was. The hollow in rock, the place where he had stopped a year before. He remembered it, despite how the ash had transformed the landscape. The Blessing of Presence, serving him again. How would he get along without it?
I would not be sentient without it, he thought, smiling grimly. It was the bestowing of a Blessing on a mistwraith that brought the creature to wakefulness and true life. Each kandra got one of the four: Presence, Potency, Stability, or Awareness. It didn't matter which one a kandra gained; any of the four would give him or her sentience, changing the mistwraith into a fully conscious kandra. he thought, smiling grimly. It was the bestowing of a Blessing on a mistwraith that brought the creature to wakefulness and true life. Each kandra got one of the four: Presence, Potency, Stability, or Awareness. It didn't matter which one a kandra gained; any of the four would give him or her sentience, changing the mistwraith into a fully conscious kandra.
In addition to sentience, each Blessing gave something else. A power. But there were stories of kandra who had gained more than one by taking them from others.
TenSoon stuck a paw into the depression, digging out the ash, working to uncover the things he had hidden a year before. He found them quickly, rolling one-then the other-out onto the rock shelf in front of him. Two small, polished iron spikes. It took two spikes to form a single Blessing. TenSoon didn't know why this was. It was simply the way of things.
TenSoon lay down, commanding the skin of his shoulder to part, and absorbed the spikes into his body. He moved them through muscles and ligaments-dissolving several organs, then re-forming them with the spikes piercing them.
Immediately, he felt power wash through him. His body became stronger. It was more than the simple adding of muscles-he could do that by re-forming his body. No, this gave each muscle an extra innate strength, making them work much better, much more powerfully, than they would have otherwise.
The Blessing of Potency. He'd stolen the two spikes from OreSeur's body. Without this Blessing, TenSoon would never have been able to follow Vin as he had during their year together. It more than doubled the power and endurance of each muscle. He couldn't regulate or change the level of that added strength-this was not Feruchemy or Allomancy, but something different. Hemalurgy.
A person had died to create each spike. TenSoon tried not to think about that too much; just as he tried not to think about how he only had this Blessing because he had killed one of his own generation. The Lord Ruler had provided the spikes each century, giving the number requested, so that the kandra could craft a new generation.
He now had four spikes, two Blessings, and was one of the most powerful kandra alive. His muscles strengthened, TenSoon jumped confidently from the top of the rock formation, falling some twenty feet to land safely on the ash-covered ground below. He took off, running far more quickly now. The Blessing of Potency resembled the power of an Allomancer burning pewter, but it was not the same. It would not keep TenSoon moving indefinitely, nor could he flare it for an extra burst of power. On the other hand, it required no metals to fuel it.
He made his path eastward. The First Contract was very explicit. When Ruin returned, the kandra were to seek out the Father to serve him. Unfortunately, the Father was dead. The First Contract didn't take that possibility into consideration. So-unable to go to the Father-TenSoon did the next best thing. He went looking for Vin.
Originally, we a.s.sumed that a koloss was a combination of two people into one. That was wrong. Koloss are not the melding of two people, but five, as evidenced by the four spikes needed to make them. Not five bodies, of course, but five souls.
Each pair of spikes grants what the kandra would call the Blessing of Potency. However, each spike also distorts the koloss body a little more, making it increasingly inhuman. Such is the cost of Hemalurgy.
40.
"n.o.bODY KNOWS PRECISELY how Inquisitors are made," Elend said from the front of the tent, addressing a small group, which included Ham, Cett, the scribe Noorden, and the mostly recovered Demoux. Vin sat at the back, still trying to sort through what she had discovered. Human . . . all koloss . . . they had once been people. how Inquisitors are made," Elend said from the front of the tent, addressing a small group, which included Ham, Cett, the scribe Noorden, and the mostly recovered Demoux. Vin sat at the back, still trying to sort through what she had discovered. Human . . . all koloss . . . they had once been people.
"There are lots of theories about it, however," Elend said. "Once the Lord Ruler fell, Sazed and I did some research, and discovered some interesting facts from the obligators we interviewed. For instance, Inquisitors are made from ordinary men-men who remember who they were, but gain new Allomantic abilities."
"Our experience with Marsh proves that as well," Ham said. "He remembered who he was, even after he had all of those spikes driven through his body. And he gained the powers of a Mistborn when he became an Inquisitor."
"Excuse me," Cett said, "but will someone please explain what the h.e.l.l this has to do with our siege of the city? There aren't any Inquisitors here."
Elend folded his arms. "This is important, Cett, because we're at war with more than just Yomen. Something we don't understand, something far greater than those soldiers inside of Fadrex."
Cett snorted. "You still believe in this talk of doom and G.o.ds and the like?"
"Noorden," Elend said, looking at the scribe. "Please tell Lord Cett what you told me earlier today."
The former obligator nodded. "Well, my lord, it's like this. Those numbers relating to the percentage of people who fall ill to the mists, they're just too too regular to be natural. Nature works in organized chaos-randomness on the small scale, with trends on the large scale. I cannot believe that anything natural could have produced such precise results." regular to be natural. Nature works in organized chaos-randomness on the small scale, with trends on the large scale. I cannot believe that anything natural could have produced such precise results."
"What do you mean?" Cett asked.
"Well, my lord," Noorden said. "Imagine that you hear a tapping sound somewhere outside your tent. If it repeats occasionally, with no exact set pattern, then it might be the wind blowing a loose flap against a pole. However, if it repeats with exact regularity, you know that it must be a person, beating against a pole. You'd be able to make the distinction immediately, because you've learned that nature can be repet.i.tive in a case like that, but not exact. exact. These numbers are the same, my lord. They're just too organized, too repet.i.tive, to be natural. They had to have been crafted by somebody." These numbers are the same, my lord. They're just too organized, too repet.i.tive, to be natural. They had to have been crafted by somebody."
"You're saying that a person made those soldiers sick?" Cett asked.
"A person? . . . No, not a person, I'd guess," Noorden said. "But something something intelligent must have done it. That's the only conclusion I can draw. Something with an agenda, something that cares to be precise." intelligent must have done it. That's the only conclusion I can draw. Something with an agenda, something that cares to be precise."
The room fell silent.
"And, this relates to Inquisitors somehow, my lord?" Demoux asked carefully.
"It does," Elend said. "At least, it does if you think as I do-which, I'll admit, not many people do."
"For better or for worse . . ." Ham said, smiling.
"Noorden, what do you know of how Inquisitors are made?" Elend asked.
The scribe grew uncomfortable. "I was in the Canton of Orthodoxy, as you may know, not the Canton of Inquisition."
"Surely there were rumors," Elend asked.
"Well, of course," Noorden said. "More than rumors, actually. The higher obligators were always always trying to discover how the Inquisitors got their power. There was a rivalry between the Cantons, you see, and . . . well, I supposed you don't care about that. Regardless, we trying to discover how the Inquisitors got their power. There was a rivalry between the Cantons, you see, and . . . well, I supposed you don't care about that. Regardless, we did did have rumors." have rumors."
"And?" Elend asked.
"They said . . ." Noorden began. "They said that an Inquisitor was a fusion of many different people. In order to make an Inquisitor, the Canton of Inquisition had to get a whole group of Allomancers, then combine their powers into one."
Again, silence in the room. Vin pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around her knees. She didn't like talking about Inquisitors.
"Lord Ruler!" Ham swore quietly. "That's it! That's That's why the Inquisitors were so keen on hunting down skaa Mistings! Don't you see! It wasn't just because the Lord Ruler ordered half-breeds to be killed-it was so that the Inquisitors could perpetuate themselves! They needed Allomancers to kill so that they could make new Inquisitors!" why the Inquisitors were so keen on hunting down skaa Mistings! Don't you see! It wasn't just because the Lord Ruler ordered half-breeds to be killed-it was so that the Inquisitors could perpetuate themselves! They needed Allomancers to kill so that they could make new Inquisitors!"
Elend nodded from his place at the front of the room. "Somehow, those spikes in the Inquisitors' bodies transfer Allomantic ability. You kill eight Mistings, and you give all their powers to one other man, such as Marsh. Sazed once told me that Marsh was always hesitant to speak of the day he was made an Inquisitor, but he did say that it was . . . 'messy.' "
Ham nodded. "And when Kelsier and Vin found his room the day he was taken and made an Inquisitor, they found a corpse in there. One they initially a.s.sumed was Marsh!"
"Later, Marsh said that more than one person had been killed there," Vin said quietly. "There just hadn't been enough . . . left of them to tell."
"Again," Cett said, "does this all have a point?"
"Well, it seems to be doing a good job of annoying you," Ham said lightly. "Do we need need any other point?" any other point?"
Elend gave them both hard looks. "The point is, Cett, that Vin discovered something earlier this week."
The group turned toward her.
"Koloss," Vin said. "They're made from humans."
"What?" Cett asked, frowning. "That's absurd."
"No," Vin said, shaking her head. "I'm sure of it. I've checked living koloss. Hidden in those folds and rips of skin on their bodies, they are pierced by spikes. Smaller than the Inquisitor spikes, and made from different metals, but all of the koloss have them."
"n.o.body has been able to figure out where new koloss come from," Elend said. "The Lord Ruler guarded the secret, and it's become one of the great mysteries of our time. Koloss seem to kill each other with regularity when someone isn't actively controlling them. Yet, there always seem to be more of the creatures. How?"
"Because they are constantly replenishing their numbers," Ham said, nodding slowly. "From the villages they pillage."
"Did you ever wonder," Elend said, "back during the siege of Luthadel, why Jastes's koloss army attacked a random village before coming for us? The creatures needed to replenish their numbers."
"They always walk about," Vin said, "wearing clothing, talking about being human. Yet, they can't quite remember what it was like. Their minds have been broken."
Elend nodded. "The other day, Vin finally got one of them to show her how to make new koloss. From what he did, and from what he's said since, we believe that he was going to try to combine combine two men into one. That would make a creature with the strength of two men, but the mind of neither." two men into one. That would make a creature with the strength of two men, but the mind of neither."
"A third art," Ham said, looking up. "A third way to use the metals. There is Allomancy, which draws power from the metals themselves. There is Feruchemy, which uses metals to draw power from your own body, and there is . . ."
"Marsh called it Hemalurgy," Vin said quietly.
"Hemalurgy . . ." Ham said. "Which uses the metals to draw power from someone else's someone else's body." body."
"Great," Cett said. "Point?"
"The Lord Ruler created servants to help him," Elend said. "Using this art . . . this Hemalurgy . . . he made soldiers, which we call koloss. He made spies, which we call kandra. And he made priests, which we call Inquisitors. He built them all with weaknesses, so that he could control them."
"I first learned how to take control of the koloss because of TenSoon," Vin said. "He inadvertently showed me the secret. He mentioned that the kandra and koloss were cousins, and I realized I could control one just as I had the other."
"I . . . still don't see where you're heading with this," Demoux said, glancing from Vin to Elend.
"The Inquisitors must have the same weakness, Demoux," Elend said. "This Hemalurgy leaves the mind . . . wounded. It allows an Allomancer to creep in and take control. The n.o.bility always wondered what made the Inquisitors so fanatically devoted to the Lord Ruler. They weren't like regular obligators-they were far more obedient. Zealous to a fault."
"It happened to Marsh," Vin whispered. "The first time I met him after he'd been made an Inquisitor, he seemed different. But, he only grew even odder during the year following the Collapse. Finally, he turned on Sazed, tried to kill him."
"What we're trying to suggest," Elend said, "is that something is controlling the Inquisitors and the koloss. Something is exploiting the weakness the Lord Ruler built into the creatures and is using them as its p.a.w.ns. The troubles we've been suffering, the chaos following the Collapse-it's not not simply chaos. No more than the patterns of people who fall sick to the mists are chaotic. I know it seems obvious, but the important thing here is that we now know the method. We understand why they can be controlled and how they're being controlled." simply chaos. No more than the patterns of people who fall sick to the mists are chaotic. I know it seems obvious, but the important thing here is that we now know the method. We understand why they can be controlled and how they're being controlled."
Elend continued to pace, his feet marking the dirty tent floor. "The more I think about Vin's discovery, the more I come to believe that this is all connected. The koloss, the kandra, and the Inquisitors are not three separate oddities, but part of a single cohesive phenomenon. Now, on the surface, knowledge of this third art . . . this Hemalurgy . . . doesn't seem like much. We don't intend to use it to make more koloss, so what good is the knowledge?"
Cett nodded, as if Elend had spoken the man's own thoughts. Elend, however, had drifted off a bit, staring out the open tent flaps, losing himself in thought. It was something he'd once done frequently, back when he spent more time on scholarship. He wasn't addressing Cett's questions. He was speaking his own concerns, following his own logical path.
"This war we're fighting," Elend continued, "it isn't just about soldiers. It isn't just about koloss, or about taking Fadrex City. It's about the sequence of events we inadvertently started the moment we struck down the Lord Ruler. Hemalurgy-the origins of the koloss-is part of a pattern. The percentages that fall sick from the mists are also part of the pattern. The less we see chaos, and the more we see the pattern, pattern, the better we're going to be at understanding just what we fight-and just how to defeat it." the better we're going to be at understanding just what we fight-and just how to defeat it."
Elend turned toward the group. "Noorden, I want you to change the focus of your research. Up until now, we've a.s.sumed that the movements of the koloss were random. I'm no longer convinced that is true. Research our old scout reports. Draw up lists and plot movements. Pay particular attention to bodies of koloss that we specifically know weren't weren't under the control of an Inquisitor. I want to see if we can discover why they went where they did." under the control of an Inquisitor. I want to see if we can discover why they went where they did."
"Yes, my lord," Noorden said.
"The rest of you stay vigilant," Elend said. "I don't want another mistake like last week's. We can't afford to lose any more troops, even koloss."
They nodded, and Elend's posture indicated the end of the meeting. Cett was carried away to his tent, Noorden bustled off to begin this new research, and Ham went in search of something to eat. Demoux, however, stayed. Vin stood and trailed forward, stepping up to Elend's side and taking his arm as he turned to address Demoux.
"My lord . . ." Demoux said, looking a bit embarra.s.sed. "I a.s.sume General Hammond has spoken to you?"
What's this? Vin thought, perking up. Vin thought, perking up.
"Yes, Demoux," Elend said with a sigh. "But I really don't think it's something to worry about."
"What?" Vin asked.
"There is a certain level of . . . ostracism happening in the camp, my lady," Demoux said. "Those of us who fell sick for two weeks, rather than a few days, are being regarded with a measure of suspicion."
"Suspicion that you no longer agree with, right, Demoux?" Elend punctuated this remark with a very kingly stern look.
Demoux nodded. "I trust your interpretation, my lord. It's just that . . . well, it is difficult to lead men who distrust you. And, it's much harder for the others like me. They've taken to eating together, staying away from the others during their free time. It's reinforcing the division."