Arcanum Unbounded: The Cosmere Collection

by Brandon Sanderson

It’s that light, he thought. It pushed back on him. Looks a little like the light of souls.

“You always jump at stories, Alonoe. Not every coincidence is a sign of someone drawing upon Fortune.”

“Preservation’s Vessel has nearly expired,” another woman said. “Our window to strike is approaching.” “An entire Shard,” Alonoe said. “Ours.” “And if that was an agent of Ruin the guards spotted?” asked the seated man. “If our plans have been discovered? The Vessel of Ruin could have his eyes upon us at this very moment.” Alonoe seemed disturbed by this, and she glanced upward as if to search the sky for the watching eyes of the Shard. She recovered, speaking firmly. “I will take the chance.” “We will draw his anger either way,” another of the beings noted. “If one of us Ascends to Preservation, we will be safe. Only then.”

So someone else can take up the Shard. Fuzz is almost dead, but if someone were to seize his power as he died … But hadn’t Preservation told Kelsier that such a thing was impossible? You wouldn’t be able to hold my power anyway, Preservation had said. You’re not Connected enough to me.

Yes … These were writing, though most of the pages were filled with terms he couldn’t begin to comprehend, even once he began to be able to read the symbols themselves. Terms like “Adonalsium,” “Connection,” “Realmatic Theory.” The end pages, however, described the culmination of the notes and sketches. A kind of arcane device in the shape of a sphere. You could break it and absorb the power within, which would briefly Connect you to Preservation—like the lines he’d seen in the space between moments. That was their plan. Travel to the location of Preservation’s death, prime themselves with this device, and absorb his power—Ascending to take his place.

He crouched outside the fortress, hidden between two spires of twisting black rock. He now understood the purpose of creating such a powerful building, here at the reaches of Preservation and Ruin’s dominion. That fortress protected a vault, and inside that vault lay an incredible opportunity. The seed that would make a person, under the right circumstances, into a god.

Alonoe, the imperious woman who seemed to be in charge, wasn’t the type to let power slip through her spindly fingertips. She intended to become Preservation; letting one of her colleagues carry the device would be too risky. What if they got ideas? What if they used it themselves?

She nodded, trembling, then took off her satchel and opened it, dumping out a large glass orb. The light from it was brilliant, and Kelsier had to step back lest it reveal him. Yes, there was power in that orb, great power. It was filled with glowing liquid that was far purer, and far brighter, than what the ancients had been drinking.

That last beggar, sitting against an old brick wall … there was something about him. Kelsier backed up, touching the beggar’s soul again, seeing a vision of a man with hands and face wrapped in bandages, white hair sticking out from beneath. Stark white hair, a fact not quite hidden by the ash that had been rubbed into it. Kelsier felt a sudden shock, a painful spike that ran up his fingers into his soul. He jumped back as the beggar glanced his direction. “You!” Kelsier said. “Drifter!” The beggar shifted in place, but then glanced another direction, searching the square. “What are you doing here?” Kelsier demanded. The glowing figure gave no response. Kelsier whipped his hand back and forth, trying to shake out the pain. His fingers had actually gone numb. What had that been? And how had the white-haired Drifter managed to affect him in this Realm?

The koloss raged in frustration, unable to reach their enemy. Curiously, their souls started to appear in the Cognitive Realm. And they were human. Not koloss at all, but people, dressed in a variety of outfits. Many were skaa, but there were soldiers, merchants, and even nobility among them. Both male and female. Kelsier gaped. He had never quite known what koloss were, but he had not expected this. Common people, made beasts somehow? He rushed among the dying souls as they faded. “What happened to you,” he demanded of one woman. “How did this happen to you?” She regarded him with a bemused expression. “Where,” she said, “where am I?” In a moment she was gone. It seemed the transition was too much of a shock. The others showed similar confusion, holding out their hands as if surprised to find themselves human again—though not a few seemed relieved. Kelsier watched as thousands of these figures appeared, then faded away. It was a slaughter on the other side, stones crashing down all around. One passed right through Kelsier before rolling away, breaking bodies.

“The beasts,” the man continued, “should have known better than to take an obligator! I was their keeper, and they did this to me? This world is ruined.” Should have known better? Kelsier clutched the obligator’s shoulder as the man stretched toward nothingness. “How? Please, how is it done? Men become koloss?” The obligator looked to him and, vanishing, said one word. “Spikes.”

Each one was a person either pierced by metal or influenced by people around them who were pierced by metal. He should have made the connection back at the Well of Ascension, when he’d seen in the pulses that Ruin could speak to Marsh and the other Inquisitors. Metal. It was the key to everything.

Ruin stepped close, whispering to her. Where is the atium, Vin? he said. What do you know of it? Atium? Kelsier drew himself near as Marsh knelt by Vin and prepared to hurt her. Atium. Why … It all came together for him. Ruin wasn’t complete either. There in the broken city of Luthadel—rain washing down, ash clogging the streets, Inquisitors roosting and watching with expressionless spiked eyes—Kelsier understood.

“The power came from the Well of Ascension, of course,” Kelsier said to Vin. “It’s the same power, after all. Solid in the metal you fed to Elend. Liquid in the pool you burned. And vapor in the air, confined to night. Hiding you. Protecting you…”

Preservation’s plan. He’d seen it, understood it in those last moments. Ruin’s body was atium. The plan was to create something special and new—people who could burn away Ruin’s body in an attempt to get rid of it.

“Ruin is more than death and destruction. It is peace with these things.”

Ruin stood up nearby, blinking. Or … no, it wasn’t Ruin any longer. It was just the Vessel, Ati. The man who had held the power. Ati ran his hand through his red hair, then looked about. “Vax?” he said, sounding confused.