Mistborn #03 The Hero of Ages

against his bonds, lusting to do her more harm.
    No . . . a tiny piece of him thought.
    The rain fell, marking a beautiful night. The city of Luthadel lay bedecked in its funereal best, smoldering, some parts still burning despite the wet night. How he wished he'd arrived in time to see the riots and the death. He smiled, the passionate love of a fresh kill rising in him.
    No, he thought.
    He knew, somehow, that the end was very near. The ground trembled beneath his feet, and he had to steady himself with one hand before continuing his work, snapping Vin's other leg. The final day had arrived. The world would not survive this night. He laughed gleefully, fully in the throes of a blood frenzy, barely controlled as he broke Vin's body.
    NO!
    Marsh awakened. Though his hands still moved as ordered, his mind rebelled. He took in the ash, and the rain, the blood and the soot, and it disgusted him. Vin lay nearly dead.
    Kelsier treated her like a daughter, he thought as he broke her fingers, one at a time. She was screaming. The daughter he never had with Mare.
    I've given up. Just like I did with the rebellion.
    It was the great shame of his life. Years ago, before the Collapse, he had led the skaa rebellion. But, he'd given in. He'd withdrawn, giving up leadership of the group. And he'd done it only one year before the rebellion—with Kelsier's help—finally overthrew the Final Empire. Marsh had been its leader, but had given up. Just before the victory.
    No , he thought as he broke the fingers on her other hand. Not again. No more giving up!
    His hand moved up to her collarbone. And then he saw it. A single bit of metal, glittering in Vin's ear. Her earring. She'd explained it to him once.
    I don't remember it, Vin's voice whispered to him from the past. A memory of when Marsh himself had sat with her on a quiet veranda at Mansion Renoux, watching Kelsier organize a caravan below, just before Marsh left to infiltrate the ranks of the Steel Priesthood.
    Vin had spoken of her insane mother. Reen said that he came home one day and found my mother covered in blood, Vin had said. She'd killed my baby sister. Me, however, she hadn't touched—except to give me an earring . . .
    Don't trust anyone pierced by metal. Spook's letter. Even the smallest bit can taint a man.
    The smallest bit.
    As he looked closer, the earring—though twisted and chipped—looked almost like a tiny spike.
    He didn't think. He didn't give Ruin time to react. Amid the thrill of killing the Hero of Ages, Ruin's control was weaker than it had ever been. Summoning all the will he had remaining, Marsh reached out.
    And ripped the earring from Vin's ear.
    Vin's eyes snapped open.
    Ash and water fell on her. Her body burned with pain, and the echoing screams of Ruin's demands still reverberated in her head.
    But the voice spoke no further. It had been stifled midsentence.
    What?
    The mists returned to her with a snap. They flowed around her, sensing the Allomancy of her tin, which she still burned faintly. They spun around her as they once had, playful, friendly.
    She was dying. She knew it. Marsh was done with her bones, and was obviously growing impatient. He screamed, holding his head. Then, he reached down, grabbing his axe from the puddle beside him. Vin couldn't have run if she'd wanted to.
    Fortunately, the pain was fading. Everything was fading. It was black.
    Please, she thought, reaching out to the mists with one final plea. They felt so familiar all of a sudden. Where had she felt that feeling before? Where did she know them?
    From the Well of Ascension, of course, a voice whispered in her head. 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.
    Giving you power!
    Vin gasped, drawing in breath—a breath that sucked in the mists. She felt suddenly warm, the mists surging within her, lending her their strength. Her entire body burned like metal, and the pain disappeared in a flash.
    Marsh swung his axe for her head, spraying water.
    And she caught his arm.

I have spoken of Inquisitors, and their ability to pierce copperclouds. As I said, this power is easily understood when one realizes that many Inquisitors were Seekers before their transformation, and that meant their bronze became twice as strong.
    There is at least one other case of a person who could pierce copperclouds. In her case, however, the situation was slightly