Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [966]
Have you counted the koloss in my army, Vin? Ruin asked. I’ve made them from your people, you know. I’ve gathered hundreds of thousands.
Vin focused, enumerating instantly. He was telling the truth.
This is the force I could have thrown at you at any time, Ruin said. Most of them kept to the Outer Dominances, but I’ve been bringing them in, marching them toward Luthadel. How many times must I tell you, Vin? You can’t win. You could never win. I’ve just been playing with you.
Vin pulled back, ignoring his lies. He hadn’t been playing with them—he’d been trying to discover the secrets that Preservation had left, the secret that the Lord Ruler had kept. Still, the numbers Ruin had finally managed to marshal were awe-inspiring. There were far more koloss than there were people climbing into the caverns. With a force like that, Ruin could assault even a well-fortified position. And, by Vin’s count, Elend had fewer than a thousand men with any battle training.
On top of that, there was the sun and its destructive heat, the death of the world’s crops, the tainting of water and land with several feet of ash . . . Even the lava flows, which she had stopped, were beginning again, her plugging of the ashmounts having provided only a temporary solution. A bad one, even. Now that the mountains couldn’t erupt, great cracks were appearing in the land, and the magma, the earth’s burning blood, was boiling out that way.
We’re just so far behind! Vin thought. Ruin had centuries to plan this. Even when we thought we were being clever, we fell for his plots. What good is it to sequester my people beneath the ground if they’re just going to starve?
She turned toward Ruin, who sat billowing and shifting upon himself, watching his koloss army. She felt a hatred that seemed incompatible with the power she held. The hatred made her sick, but she didn’t let go of it.
This thing before her . . . it would destroy everything she knew, everything she loved. It couldn’t understand love. It built only so that it could destroy. At that moment, she reversed her earlier decision. She’d never again call Ruin a “him.” Humanizing the creature gave it too much respect.
Seething, watching, she didn’t know what else to do. So, she attacked.
She wasn’t even certain how she did it. She threw herself at Ruin, forcing her power up against its power. There was friction between them, a clash of energy, and it tormented her divine body. Ruin cried out, and—mixing with Ruin—she knew its mind.
Ruin was surprised. It didn’t expect Preservation to be able to attack. Vin’s move smacked too much of destruction. Ruin didn’t know how to respond, but it threw its power back against her in a protective reflex. Their selves crashed, threatening to dissolve. Finally, Vin pulled back, lacerated, rebuffed.
Their power was too well matched. Opposite, yet similar. Like Allomancy.
Opposition, Ruin whispered. Balance. You’ll learn to hate it, I suspect, though Preservation never could.
“So, this is the body of a god?” Elend asked, rolling the bead of atium around in his palm. He held it up next to the one that Yomen had given him.
“Indeed, Your Majesty,” Sazed said. The Terrisman looked eager. Didn’t he understand how dangerous their situation was? Demoux’s scouts—the ones that had returned—reported that the koloss were only minutes away. Elend had ordered his troops posted at the doorways to the Homeland, but his hope—that the koloss wouldn’t know where to find his people—was a slim one, considering what Sazed had told him about Ruin.
“Ruin can’t help but come for it,” Sazed explained. They stood in the metal-lined cavern called the Trustwarren, the place where the kandra had spent the last thousand years gathering and guarding the atium. “This atium is part