Shadows of Self (Mistborn, #5)

by Brandon Sanderson

Well, considering that a male kandra you’re talking to today might decide to be a woman tomorrow, I’d say we have a different perspective on all that.”

Trans 🏳️‍🌈

I’d have thought you’d find this natural, seeing as your God is basically a hermaphrodite at this point. Both good and evil, Ruin and Preservation, light and dark, male and female. Et cetera et cetera.”

“The Survivor transcended death,” Marasi said, looking back, her hand on the door but not entering. “He survived even being killed, adopting the mantle of the Ascendant during the time between Preservation’s death and Vin’s Ascension.”

That explains The Ghost Bloods... Also just made that connection that this Kandra is called "Bleeder"

MeLaan leaned back in her chair and scanned the room. “Spook was always droning on about things like this—that bloodline shouldn’t matter as much as capability. You doing what you did should be impressive to everyone, not threatening. Hell, you said the place was egalitarian.”

Historically, the working class has often been more resistant to change than the class oppressing them.”

No one liked to realize they’d been had. People in Elendel believed they were living the good life—they’d been told all their lives that Harmony had blessed them with a rich and lavish land of bounty. You could listen to that sort of talk only so long before starting to wonder why all the incredible orchards were owned by someone else, while you had to work long hours simply to feed your children.

If a tiny invader enters your blood, Bleeder said, the entire body begins to spin around it, to fight it, to find it and eliminate it. Like a thousand fingers of mist, like a legion of soldiers all too small to see. But what is very interesting is when the body turns upon itself, and these soldiers run wild. Free …

made sense. But rich folk, they had a different word for the crapper. They’d call it a “commode” or a “washroom.” That way, when someone asked for the crapper, they knew it was a person they needed to oppress.

Wayne popped one in his mouth—candied bacon wrapped around a walnut. “How is it?” Wax asked. “Tastes like cotton candy,” Wayne said, relishing the flavor, “made of baby.”

“The Lord Ruler’s reign was one of terror and oppression. These people are upset, yes, but it’s a far different world now.” “Different?” Edwarn said, letting smoke roll from his mouth as he spoke. “Perhaps. But human emotions are the same. It seems that no matter how nice the box is, trap a man in it and he will buck. Fight. Rail.” “And you claim to be on the side of the common man,” Wax said dryly. “Hardly. I want power. Wealth. Influence. Just like the people in the Survivor’s crew, in fact.”

“Oh, Harmony,” Wax whispered. “You are working with her.” “It’s more like we’re riding the storm,”

Freedom, to Wax, wasn’t the absence of responsibility. He didn’t doubt that if he left again, he’d find himself as a lawman once more. No, freedom was not lack of responsibilities—it was being able to do what was right, without having to worry if it was also wrong. He didn’t contemplate leaving, not seriously. But he did sit for a time, staring out at that darkness. Trying to look past the people, the shadowed suburbs, and see simplicity again. Rusts. What he wouldn’t give to trade all the politicians, games, and secrets for an honest murderer calling him out on the street.

“Hats is a disguise for your brain. Helps you think like the person what wore it last. You wanna know a guy? Put on his hat.” “Has anyone ever told you that you’re surprisingly wise?” MeLaan asked. “All the bloody time.” “They’re idiots. You’re not wise, you’re playing them. You’re doing this on purpose.” She grinned. “I love it.”

“The governor can’t just appoint someone to the peerage,” Marasi said. “A new title has to be ratified by a council with a quorum of the major house seats in the city.”

Elongated muskrat

Well, why shouldn’t she show her legs? Historical precedent, and simple practicality, demanded that women be allowed into all professions. What lord would turn away a Thug or a Bloodmaker from his guards merely because she had breasts? What constable office would pass up the chance to have every Tineye or Coinshot they could get? What bank wouldn’t jump at the chance to employ a Terriswoman with copperminds? The thing was, woman constables were also expected to be models of ladylike behavior. A holdover from the old days, reinforced by the speeches of Lady Allrianne Ladrian soon after the Catacendre. There was just this blunt expectation that you would strive to remain feminine at the same time as you did your job. A heavy double standard to bear.

He scanned the open foyer, with its murals of the Originators. Hammond, the Lord Mistborn, Lady Truth, Wax’s own ancestor Edgard Ladrian. Portly and self-satisfied, in his portrait he held a cup of wine. He’d always looked like the sort of person Wax would want to punch on sight. The type who was certainly guilty of something.

replica of both Harmony’s Bands and the Bands of Mourning.

A wolfhound, easily the largest he had ever seen, of a mottled grey coloring. The pelt reminded him of the mists. “I’ve read about you,” Wax said. “Thrilling,” the kandra growled. “I’m so happy Sazed included me in his little book so that drunk people can curse by my name.” “They … do that?” “Yes.” The wolfhound growled quietly in the back of his throat. “There are … stuffed toys too.” “Oh yeah,” Wax said. “Soonie pups. I’ve seen those around.”

Tensoon!

As they moved deeper into the caverns, Wax noted a crusty white substance growing on the rocks, the source of the powdery residue he’d found on Bleeder’s clothing. Presumably, if he extinguished his lantern he’d be able to see the glow.

Crem? White sand?

“What was she like? As a person, I mean.” “She was strong and vulnerable all at once,” TenSoon whispered. “She was my last master, and my greatest. She had a way of pouring everything of herself into what she did. When she fought, she was the blade. When she loved, she was the kiss. In that regard, she was far more … human than any I have known.”

Vin <3

“They rob us blind!” the man shouted. Aye, that’s true, Wayne thought, shouting along with the crowd’s roar of agreement. “They expect us to work long hours every day, but then when it ain’t convenient for them, they just cut us loose and don’t care none if we starve.” Yeah, they do, Wayne thought, joining in the cursing and shouting. “They do each other favors,” the man bellowed. “They suck us dry, then gather to throw lavish parties!” I’ve been to those parties, Wayne thought. Good sandwiches.

Listening to this speech, he was half inclined to string himself up, which was really disturbing, since he was generally suicidal only in the mornings.

Wayne felt a disturbance stir within him, like his stomach discovering he’d just fed it a bunch of rotten apples. Religion worried him. It could ask men to do things they’d otherwise never do.

“One spike,” TenSoon said, turning it over. “Any more, and Harmony might have been able to control these beasts. How could such a change be effected by a single spike? This is a level of Hemalurgy beyond my understanding, lawman.”

The accent was wrong. Just slightly wrong, but in a profound way. And suddenly he knew who Bleeder was impersonating.

I got it now

“Harmony made sure it spread here,” TenSoon’s voice said from above. “He wanted to make certain that no person was ever trapped in darkness in this place again.” Wax forced himself to continue upward. He recognized where he was now, from the stories. The holes in the walls that he used as handholds had once been overgrown with crystals, and within, geodes containing a bead of the lost metal. Legendary atium. He was climbing the Pits of Hathsin themselves.

The governor was planning to speak to the people of the city. Bleeder hadn’t succeeded in killing him yet, and Wax suspected he knew why. Because when she murdered him, she wanted an audience.

Not quite...

“You knew the passphrase,” Wax whispered, “but of course you did. I gave it to you.

I knew it!

So Wax yelled for help. It was risky, but nothing ever ended well when you obeyed the person with the gun on you.

“Do you know, Wax, how long he cultivated you? How long he teased you, led you by the nose? How he sent you to be hardened by the Roughs, so he could draw you back in once you had aged properly, like leather being cured…”

Cultivated?…Cultivation?

One spike allowed her to be sapient. And a second—delivered into her skull in the form of a bullet forged from Wax’s earring—let Harmony seize control of her again.

“Tonight, the governor himself declared this city to be in a state of martial law. That puts the constables in charge, with him at the head. Unfortunately, it turns out the governor is a lying bastard.” Some of the people began hesitant shouts of agreement. “He’s no longer in control,” Aradel said. “Best I can figure, you’re in control. So if you’re willing, tonight the constables stand with you. “Now, you all came here to start a riot. Listen! Stop your shouts. I won’t stand for rioting or looting. You start burning this city, and I’ll fight you up to my last breath. You hear me? We aren’t a mob.”

Oh if only!! Trump is like this governor, Musk is the Kandra controlling him.

“I think I loved you even on that day,” she said. “Lawman for hire. So ridiculous, but so … earnest. You didn’t try to shelter me, but seemed so eager to impress … A lord with a purpose.” “Who told you of that day, Bleeder?” Wax demanded. “Who…” “Ask Harmony,” she said, the trembling growing more violent. “Ask him, Wax! Ask why he sent a kandra to watch over you, all those years ago. Ask him if he knew I would come to love you!”

;-;

“You didn’t tell me?” Wax spat, his grip tight. Hatred. He didn’t think he had ever felt hatred so intense as he did at that moment. “I was forbidden,” TenSoon said. “MeLaan didn’t know; I was only informed a few days ago. Harmony foresaw a disaster if you were told whom you hunted.” “And this isn’t a disaster, kandra?”

We’re all so fragile, when you consider it, Wax thought. One little thing goes wrong, and we break.

“We can’t identify the metal. It’s nothing we’ve ever seen before. It certainly wasn’t one of the spikes she started with. That means she removed both, and stuck one like this in instead. Where did she get them? Who gave them to her?”

People have to be able to trust the law; I’m a lot of things, but I’m not going to be the one who sets the precedent that the kandra can lie in order to get someone convicted, even if you’re ‘pretty sure’ you’ve got the right evidence.”

If only....

“Still breaks our rules,” MeLaan said. “And Harmony probably wouldn’t talk.” “Why not?” Marasi said. “You realize what all this has done to Waxillium, right?” “He’ll weather it.” “He shouldn’t have to.” “And what would you have Harmony do, woman? Give us all the answers? Lead us by the noses, like Paalm swore that He did? Turn us all into pieces on a board for His amusement?” Marasi stepped back. She’d never heard such a tone from MeLaan. “Or maybe you want it the other way?” MeLaan snapped. “Leave us alone completely? Not intervene at all?” “No, I—” “Can you imagine what it must be like? Knowing that any action you take is going to help some, but hurt others? Save a man’s life now, let him spread a disease that kills a child later in his life. Harmony does the best He can—the best possible, by the very definition. Yes, He hurt Wax. He hurt him badly. But He put the pain where He knew it could be borne.”

didn’t you wonder why Harmony couldn’t see Bleeder? Couldn’t track her, couldn’t predict her? What could stop a god, Marasi Colms? Any guesses?” “Another god,” Marasi whispered. “Congratulations,” MeLaan said, pulling open the door. “You’ve found proof of something that terrifies us. Think on that for a while, before you go around accusing Harmony—or the kandra—of anything.

Who, or what, was Trell?

Oh yeah!!!

It is possible on Scadrial to be born with ability to access both Allomancy and Feruchemy. This has been of specific interest to me lately, as the mixing of different types of Investiture has curious effects. One need look only at what has happened on Roshar to find this manifested—two powers, combined, often have an almost chemical reaction. Instead of getting out exactly what you put in, you get something new.

Ooooh