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He’d always found it odd that so many died when they were old, as logic said that was the point in their lives when they’d had the most practice not dying.
“Proper loafing requires company. One man lying about is being idle; two men lying about is a lunch break.”
“Greet every morning with a smile. That way it won’t know what you’re planning to do to it?”
“Until you know it ain’t true, treat every woman like she has an older brother what is stronger than you are?”
“Your grasp of the language is startling,” Wax said, “considering how you so frequently brutalize it.” “Ain’t nobody what knows the cow better than the butcher, Wax.”
You had to adapt. Move. Change. That was good, but it could also threaten identity, connection, and sense of purpose. The governor’s guards studied the crowd with hostility, muttering about miscreants, as if seeing the crowd as barely contained malefactors who were looking for any excuse to riot and loot. To the contrary, these people wanted something stable, something that would let them sustain their communities or forge new ones. Rioting was rarely caused by greed, but frequently by frustration and hopelessness.
Harmony, Ironeyes, the Lord Mistborn …
Wax breathed in and out. “Harmony.” Yes? the voice said. “You’re here, in my coach.” Technically, I am everywhere.
Any being has choice, Harmony said. Even koloss have the power to choose. This one … the being who wears Bloody Tan’s body … has not made very good choices.
She is a member of the Third Generation, and you should know better than to assume everyone dangerous to be a male. Paalm was what we called her, but she has chosen the name Bleeder for herself. Waxillium, Bleeder is ancient, older than the destruction of the world—almost as old as the Final Empire. Indeed, she is older than I am, though not older than my powers. She is crafty, careful, and brilliant. And I’m afraid that she might have gone mad.
During moments like this, Wax understood the Ascendant Warrior. Vin—they rarely called her by name. Her title, like those of the other Preservers, was used to show reverence. The Historica, a section of the Words of Founding, said she had melded with the mists. She had taken them upon herself, becoming their guardian as they became her essence. As the Survivor watched over all who struggled, Vin watched over those in the night. Sometimes he felt he could see her form in their patterns: slight of frame, short hair splayed out as she moved, mistcloak fluttering behind her.
Metal. In some ways, that was the true mark of mankind. Man tamed the stones, the bones of the earth below. Man tamed the fire, that ephemeral, consuming soul of life. And combining the two, he drew forth the marrow of the rocks themselves, then made molten tools.
The law is not something holy, son. It’s simply a reflection of the ideals of those lucky enough to be in charge.”
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.
“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.”
“You really knew her, didn’t you?” Wax asked. “The Ascendant Warrior?” “I knew her,” TenSoon said softly. “Near the end, I spent over an hour without my spikes, and so my memories degraded. However, most of what I lost was from the time right before my fall. Most of my memories of her are crisp.”
“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.”
“Paalm was the Lord Ruler’s pet kandra, a slave to his will and the contract we made with him. She ignored events surrounding the end of the World of Ash; she vanished, didn’t return to the Homeland. I assumed her dead, until she appeared among the survivors. She still separated herself from us then, although she served Harmony as we all did. Until … nothing. Absence.”
Legendary atium. He was climbing the Pits of Hathsin themselves.
“Lessie?” Harmony, it was her. It was her. “Ask him … Wax,” she said. “Ask him … why … if he knows everything … he’d let you kill me…” She grew still. “Lessie?” Wax said. “Lessie!”
TenSoon the kandra, Guardian of the Ascendant Warrior, approached with a reverent step, wolfhound’s head bowed.
“Tell me,” Wax said, his voice cracking and rough from shouting. “Tell me, kandra.” “She was sent to you long ago,” TenSoon said, sitting back on his haunches. “The woman you knew as Lessie was always one of us.”
“Harmony worried about you in the Roughs, lawman,” TenSoon said. “He wanted you to have a bodyguard. Paalm had exhibited a willingness to break prohibitions the rest of us held sacred. He hoped that you two would be good for one another.”
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.
Who, or what, was Trell?