That gave Sazed pause. What am I doing? he thought, horrified at his outburst. Is this what I've really become? During most of my life, I resisted the Synod, rebelling against my own people. Yet, I was at peace, confident that I was doing the right thing.
Now I come here, where people need me most, and I just sit around and snap at my friends, telling them that we're just going to die?
"But," Spook said, looking up, "though I doubt myself, I still think we'll be all right."
Sazed was surprised at the hope he saw in the boy's eyes. That's what I've lost.
"How can you say that?" Sazed asked.
"I don't know, really," Spook said. "I just . . . Well, do you remember that question you asked me when you first got here? We were standing by the lake, just over there. You asked me about faith. You asked what good it was, if it just led people to hurt each other, like Quellion's faith in the Survivor has done."
Sazed looked out over the lake. "Yes," he said softly. "I remember."
"I've been thinking about that ever since," Spook said. "And . . . I think I might have an answer."
"Please."
"Faith," Spook said, "means that it doesn't matter what happens. You can trust that somebody is watching. Trust that somebody will make it all right."
Sazed frowned.
"It means that there will always be a way," Spook whispered, staring forward, eyes glazed, as if seeing things that Sazed could not.
Yes, Sazed thought. That is what I have lost. And it's what I need to get back.
I have come to see that each power has three aspects: a physical one, which can be seen in the creations made by Ruin and Preservation; a spiritual one in the unseen energy that permeates all of the world; and a cognitive one in the minds which controlled that energy.
There is more to this. Much more that even I do not yet comprehend.
57
YOU SHOULD KILL THEM.
Vin looked up as she heard a pair of guards pass the door to her cell. There was one good thing about Ruin's voice—it tended to warn her when people were nearby, even if it did always tell her to kill them.
A part of her did wonder if, in fact, she was mad. After all, she saw and heard things that nobody else could. However, if she were mad, there would really be no way for her to realize it. So, she simply decided to accept what she heard, and move on.
In truth, she was glad for Ruin's voice on occasion. Other than Ruin, she was alone in the cell. All was still. Even the soldiers did not speak—likely at Yomen's orders. Plus, each time Ruin spoke, she felt as if she learned something. For instance, she had learned that Ruin could either manifest in person or affect her from a distance. When its actual presence was not with her in the cell, Ruin's words were far more simple and vague.
Take, for instance, Ruin's order that she kill the guards. She couldn't follow that suggestion, not from within the cell. It wasn't so much a specific order as it was an attempt to change her inclinations. Ag1ain, that reminded her of Allomancy, which could exert a general influence over a person's emotions.
General influence . . .
Something suddenly occurred to her. She quested out, and—sure enough—she could still feel the thousand koloss that Elend had given her. They were under her control still, distant, obeying the general orders she'd given them before.
Could she use them somehow? Deliver a message to Elend, perhaps? Get them to attack the city and free her? As she considered them, both plans seemed flawed. Sending them to Fadrex would just get them killed, as well as risk upsetting whatever plans Elend had for a potential attack. She could send them to find Elend, but that would probably just get them killed by the camp guards, who would be afraid they were bloodlusting. Plus, what would she have them do if they did get to him? She could order them to take actions, like attack or pick someone up, but she'd never tried something as delicate as ordering one to speak certain words.
She tried forming those words in her head and getting them to the koloss, but all she sensed back was confusion. She'd have to work on that some more. And, as she considered, she wondered if getting a message to Elend would really be the best way to use them. It would let Ruin know about a potential tool she had that, maybe, he hadn't noticed.
"I see that he finally found a cell for you," a voice said.
Vin looked up, and there he was. Still wearing Reen's form, Ruin stood in the small cell with her. He maintained a straight-backed posture, standing almost benevolently over her. Vin sat up on her cot. She'd never thought that of all her metals, she would miss bronze so much. When Ruin returned to visit in "person," burning bronze had let her feel him via bronzepulses and gave her warning that he had arrived, even if he didn't appear to her.
"I'll admit that I'm disappointed in you, Vin," Ruin said. He used Reen's voice, but he imbued it with a sense of . . . age. Of quiet wisdom. The fatherly nature of that voice, mixed with Reen's face and her own knowledge of the thing's desire to destroy, was disturbing.
"The last time you were captured and locked away without metals," Ruin continued, "not a night passed before you'd killed the Lord Ruler and overthrown the empire. Now you've been soundly imprisoned for what . . . a week now?"
Vin didn't respond. Why come taunt me? Does it expect to learn something?
Ruin shook its head. "I would have thought at the very least that you'd have killed Yomen."
"Why are you so concerned with his death?" Vin asked. "It seems to me that he's on your side."
Ruin shook its head, standing with hands clasped behind its back. "You still don't understand, I see. You're all on my side, Vin. I created you. You're my tools—each and every one of you. Zane, Yomen, you, your dear Emperor Venture . . ."
"No. Zane was yours, and Yomen is obviously misguided. But Elend . . . he'll fight against you."
"But he can't," Ruin said. "That's what you refuse to understand, child. You cannot fight me, for by the mere act of fighting you advance my goals."
"Evil men, perhaps, help you," Vin said. "But not Elend. He's a good person, and not even you can deny that."
"Vin, Vin. Why can't you see? This isn't about good or evil. Morality doesn't even enter into it. Go1od men will kill as quickly for what they want as evil men—only the things they want are different."
Vin fell silent.
Ruin shook its head. "I keep trying to explain. This process we are engaged in, the end of all things—it's not a fight, but a simple culmination of inevitability. Can any man make a pocket watch that won't eventually wind down? Can you imagine a lantern that won't eventually burn out? All things end. Think of me as a caretaker—the one who watches the shop and makes certain that the lights are turned out, that everything is cleaned up, once closing time arrives."
For a moment, he made her question. There was some truth in his words, and seeing the changes in the land these last few years—changes that started before Ruin was even released—did make her wonder.
Yet, something about the conversation bothered her. If what Ruin said was completely true, then why did he care about her? Why return and speak to her?
"I guess that you've won, then," she said quietly.
"Won?" Ruin asked. "Don't you understand? There was nothing for me to win, child. Things happen as they must."
"I see," Vin said.
"Yes, perhaps you do," Ruin said. "I think that you just might be able to." It turned and began to walk quietly from one side of the cell toward the other. "You are a piece of me, you know. Beautiful destroyer. Blunt and effective. Of all those I've claimed over this brief thousand years, you are the only one I think just might be able to understand me."
Why, Vin thought, it's gloating! That's why Ruin is here—because it wants to make certain that someone understands what it has accomplished! There was a feeling of pride and victory in Ruin's eyes. They were human emotions, emotions that Vin could understand.
At that moment, Ruin stopped being an it in her mind, and instead became a he.
Vin began to think—for the first time—that she could find a way to beat Ruin. He was powerful, perhaps even incomprehensible. But she had seen humanity in him, and that humanity could be deceived, manipulated, and broken. Perhaps it was this same conclusion that Kelsier had drawn, after looking into the Lord Ruler's eyes that fateful night when he had been captured. She finally felt as if she understood him, and what it must have felt like to undertake something so bold as the defeat of the Lord Ruler.
But Kelsier had years to plan, Vin thought. I . . . I don't even know how long I have. Not long, I would guess. Even as she thought, another earthquake began. The walls trembled, and Vin heard guards cursing in the hallway as something fell and broke. And Ruin . . . he seemed to be in a state of bliss, his eyes closed, mouth open slightly and looking pleasured as the building and city rumbled.
Eventually, all fell still. Ruin opened his eyes, staring her down. "This work I do, it's about passion, Vin. It's about dynamic events; it's about change! That is why you and your Elend are so important to me. People with passion are people who will destroy—for a man's passion is not true until he proves how much he's willing to sacrifice for it. Will he kill? Will he go to war? Will he break and discard that which he has, all in the name of what he needs?"
It's not just that Ruin feels that he's accomplished something, Vin thought, he feels that he's overcome. Despite what he claims, he feels that he's won1—that he's defeated something . . . but who or what? Us? We would be no adversary for a force like Ruin.
A voice from the past seemed to whisper to her from long ago. What's the first rule of Allomancy, Vin?
Consequence. Action and reaction. If Ruin had power to destroy, then there was something that opposed him. It had to be. Ruin had an opposite, an opponent. Or, he once had.
"What did you do to him?" Vin asked.
Ruin hesitated, frowning as he turned toward her.
"Your opposite," Vin said. "The one who once stopped you from destroying the world."
Ruin was silent for a long moment. Then he smiled, and Vin saw something chilling in that smile. A knowledge that he was right. Vin was part of him. She understood him.
"Preservation is dead," Ruin said.
"You killed him?"
Ruin shrugged. "Yes, but no. He gave of himself to craft a cage. Though his throes of agony have lasted several thousand years, now, finally, he is gone. And the bargain has come to its fruition."
Preservation, Vin thought, a piece of a gigantic whole clicking into place. The opposite of Ruin. A force like that couldn't have destroyed his enemy, because he would represent the opposite of destruction. But imprisonment, that would be within his powers.
Imprisonment that ended when I gave up the power at the Well.
"And so you see the inevitability," Ruin said softly.
"You couldn't create it yourself, could you?" Vin asked. "The world, life. You can't create, you can only destroy."
"He couldn't create either," Ruin said. "He could only preserve. Preservation is not creation."
"And so you worked together," Vin said.
