This chapter is the first installment of the actual "prequel". I chose to write about events that were mentioned throughout the story, but never actually depicted. These scenes are all my interpretation of what happened then.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.

Like all of the others, I awoke to darkness. It was a very primal thing.

Almost like rebirth.

1

REEN SQUATTED IN AN ALLEYWAY, rain penetrating through his shirt and dripping down his back. The fifteen-year-old skaa thief was shorter than most kids his age, with narrow shoulders. Water dripped from his hair, cut extremely short as a defensive measure. Long hair could be a useful weapon in a fight. He had learned that the hard way.

"Which one is he?" A voice whispered next to him.

Reen glanced to the side, his mouth twisting slightly upwards, but said nothing. His younger sister, Vin, sat in the mud a few inches away, legs folded under her. She shivered from the cold, but her face was hard. Determined. She looked at him questioningly. Reen turned away, focusing his attention back to the street they watched.

A particularly heavy ashfall fell from the sky, mixing with the rain and creating dirty rivulets that ran between the cobblestones of the road. Skaa workers bustled up the street, interspersed with the occasional noble carriage. The carriages did not stop for anything, and the coach drivers would glare down their noses and curse quietly to themselves as they pushed through the skaa hordes. Reen had seen skaa trampled under a horse on several occasions. The nobility didn't care. They were only skaa. They could be replaced.

Directly across the street from where they huddled was a forge mill. Skaa worked diligently, cowering under the whips of the obligator taskmasters. Every few minutes, one of the obligators would notice a fallen skaa and proceed to flay him into submission. The lucky ones died and were carried away to the furnaces. The rest returned to work, cattle driven by a cruel master.

A figure approached the taskmasters, drawing Reen's attention. The Lord Prelan. Tevidian was the head of the Canton of Orthodoxy, which gave him official rule over the entire Steel Ministry. Like all obligators, he was bald. Intricate Ministry eye tattoos covered the skin around his eyes, angling up towards his forehead.

Reen nodded his head imperceptibly. "That's him," he said in a flat tone.

Vin perked up. "Father? He's….different than I expected."

"Your father," Reen said. "Not mine." He turned away, pulling Vin back into the alley by an arm. She didn't resist.

"I don't understand," Vin said. "Why would my father take our mother? Does he not have a wife? I thought nobility didn't have relations with skaa."

Reen slapped her. The blow couldn't be heard over the falling rain, but he could see the shock in her eyes. Her mouth dropped open slightly, and she raised a small fist to her face, rubbing her cheek gingerly.

"You must get this through your head, Vin. Your father is not a good man. There's no such thing as a good man. Obligators have been known to bed skaa. Some have even taken skaa as young as you. Of course, the women must be disposed of afterwards, lest they bear half-breed Allomancers. Is that what you want, Vin? To be raped and murdered? I could take you over there right now, hand you over to your own father. He wouldn't know. Is that what you want?"

He moved as if to do that very thing, grabbing her by the arm, but she cried out and he stopped. He backhanded her again.

"I told you to be quiet," he snapped. "You're going to get us found out." It wasn't true, not really. She had barely been loud enough for him to hear. Unless there was a Tineye nearby, they were safe. For the moment.

A Steel Inquisitor stepped into the alleyway, eye spikes gleaming.

.

KELSIER SAT IN CLUB'S SHOP, puffing contentedly on a pipe. He sat in the kitchen, surrounded by the other members of the crew. Dockson sat in a corner, half shrouded in darkness, scratching notes on a clipboard. Ham, Breeze, and Clubs reclined in chairs in a half circle around the table opposite him. He smiled.

A serving girl entered the room. Her simple skaa dress had been whitewashed, free of ash. Kelsier made it a point to keep his environment as clean as possibly. Breeze waved the girl over, holding up an empty glass. "Trossa, my dear, could you please get me a refill?"

She scurried over to do as requested, taking the glass from him. Kelsier eyed Breeze's clothing, not for the first time. The rest of them managed to dress somewhat moderately. Ham usually just wore a vest and trousers. But Breeze…Breeze was something else. A suit jacket draped him from head to toe, black as pitch. Underneath, he wore a lavish purple shirt, and dark trousers with a wide buckle. Rings glittered on all his fingers.

"Breeze," Kelsier said. "Has anyone ever told you you look like a nobleman?"

Breeze snatched his wine back and Trossa left the room. He held the glass to his lips, but didn't drink, a thoughtful expression on his face. He took a sip, placed the glass on the table, and folded his hands in his lap, sitting back.

"I'm a thief, my dear man," Breeze said. "Naturally, I have talents. Talents this crew has put to good use recently, if I recall. The incident at Keep Hasting went over smoothly."

"Smoothly? Marsh's man said you fell down drunk before contact could be made. I'd hardly call that smooth, Breeze."

"That brother of yours has always been a poor judge of character. I got out, did I not? That is all that matters." He took another sip of wine.

Ham shrugged. "He has a point, Kell. The Inquisitors would have been here long ago if not for what he did. I had two Thugs stationed in the guards, but they were overwhelmed. Even when he's drunk, he's a damn good Soother. We need him."

Kelsier waved a hand, smiling. "Alright, you've persuaded me. Where is Marsh, anyway?"

Clubs spoke up, the dark scowl never leaving his face. "Out scouting with Mare. He mentioned something about getting the blueprints, as well."

He always did like to try to get alone with her, Kelsier thought, then immediately pushed it way, forcing a smile back to his face. He pushed his blonde hair back from his eyes. His hair was getting far too long. He'd have to ask Mare to cut it for him later…

"Kell?"

"Hmm?" It was Dockson, his second-in-command. Dox mainly served as the crew's organizer and financial backing. He catalogued job details, and if a somewhat embarrassing item needed covert selling, Dockson would see it got done.

"You should come look at this," Dockson said.

"What is it, Dox?" Kelsier rose and walked over, kneeling down to squint at the other man's clipboard. "I don't see anything but a bunch of numbers and wavy lines. Wait. Is that the palace?"

Dockson nodded. "Do you see what I see?"

For once, Kelsier's smile faded.

Marsh and Mare were walking into a trap.

.

ASH FELL FROM THE SKY.

Night was falling quickly. Marsh walked up Old Wall street, keeping a firm eye on his quarry. The beggar leaned on a cane under an overhang outside a shop, keeping out of the ash and rain. Marsh pulled the hood of his cloak up as he strode closer.

"I come for information, Hoid. You know the palace?"

The beggar looked up, squinting, though Marsh guessed that his eyesight was just fine. He seemed to be trying to see under Marsh's hood, but Marsh stayed in the darkness. The mists were finally starting to appear, obscuring his form.

"Hoid knows much, if you have the coin. But I was told there would be two of you. Tell me, where is the other? Your….lady friend?"

Marsh flushed despite himself. Stay calm, he told himself firmly. "I sent her on an errand," he said. He reached for the coin pouch on his belt and pressed it into the beggar's dirty palm. "You have the blueprints?"

"Hoid does as the master requests," the beggar said, jingling the pouch gently and making it disappear inside a fold of his cloak with nimble fingers. In the same movement, he withdrew something and held it out to Marsh. A slip of paper, folded crisply. Marsh grabbed it and started to turn away.

"She's going to die, you know," a voice said.

Marsh paused, then turned back. He stared at Hoid. The beggar didn't move. "What did you just say?"

"Hoid said nothing, master. Does something ail you? There's an apothecary down the road, if you're hearing voices. I'm not sure if he's still open this late…." He trailed off.

Marsh felt an eerie chill creep up the back of his spine. He resisted the urge to shiver, and continued on down the road, disappearing into the mists.

She's going to die.

.

MARE STOOD ON A ROOFTOP overlooking Kenton street. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago, and flakes of ash drifted down to stick against her still wet clothing and skin. She didn't mind. This was her element. Being out in the mists, with nature, that was what Mare lived for.

She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and unfolded it, keeping it close to her body and letting her long auburn locks of hair shield it from the ash. She flared tin, and the mists swirled around her in a harmonic pattern. She had always felt comfortable in the mists. Kelsier had taught her that the mists would guide and protect her from harm.

It was an old photograph. To a regular person, it would seem faded beyond relief, but to Mare's eyes, colour burst forth in a multitude of hues. It was a picture of a plant. A green plant. Little buds sprouted from it in different places, and the petals at the top hung down like a bell. A flower. Mare smiled.

Kelsier thought her religion foolish, but Mare continued to believe. She had to believe. Had to have hope that the Lord Ruler could be defeated and the beauty of the world restored. Kelsier would never understand.

The religion was known as Larsta, and she had discovered it through a Terrisman named Sazed. The event brought another smile to her face.

Two weeks ago, Mare had been playing the part of serving girl in Keep Hasting, much to her displeasure. She still hadn't quite forgiven Kelsier for that decision, but he stood firm that they simply hadn't had time to train her in the ways of the nobility. She had been sitting in the kitchen, rubbing her sore feet, when the Terrisman had entered.

Immediately she had been struck by his height. He towered over her, completely bald, with striking eyes. There was a V-shaped pattern across the front of his robes. He was a steward. She blanched slightly, mentally cursing herself. She'd probably done something wrong, curtsied the wrong way, and the steward had come to reprimand her.

And then the man had sat down next to her. She was mildly shocked, but said nothing. She was merely a serving girl, and Terrisman stewards were the highest order of servants. She had no right to question him.

After a time, he spoke quietly. "I confess myself at a loss. I have been through my copperminds twice now, and nothing I have stored conflicts with your behaviour. Yet, you seem oddly out of place here."

Other servants bustled about the large room, pots and pans clanging loudly. The cook oversaw everything, occasionally waddling over to lift a lid and sniff with displeasure. Mare was confident they couldn't be overheard.

"You're a Keeper?" she asked, surprised.

The man nodded. "I am Sazed."

"I've never seen a Terrisman in the city before," Mare said, continuing to rub her heels.

"We don't often come this far south. I prefer to keep to my studies. The Lord Ruler has hunted my people to near-extinction. What can be preserved, must be preserved."

Mare paused, glancing at the other servants, but nobody had turned their way. The Terrisman had entered dangerous waters, and she was growing uncomfortable.

She tried to steer the conversation in another direction. "What sort of things do you study?" she asked.

"Religions," Sazed replied. He reached inside his robes and withdrew a copper bracelet, snapping it around his forearm. Immediately his eyes took on a glazed look. "There were many religions before the time of the Lord Ruler. Nearly all of them were destroyed, but we have gathered what we can. The Nelazan, for instance, worshipped the stars. The Canzi had worshipped death. They had studied the human body for some time, I believe. The Larsta worshipped nature and the beauty of the world. The Lord Ruler destroyed that, but once, the sky had been blue, and the earth covered in shades of green. Can you imagine it? A world free of ash and mist, with green plants. Oceans vast and beautiful."

Mare thought the concept quite odd, but didn't want to offend him. "It sounds wonderful," she whispered.

His eyes glistened with tears. "You are too kind." He drew something from his robes and handed it to her. "Keep that with you, if only to have a little hope. Hope for change."

At that moment, Mare felt a wave crash over her, calming her nerves. She felt blissful, completely serene and at peace. Then she shook herself. Only one thing could have caused that. She glanced at the Terrisman to confirm her suspicions. He wore a lazy smile, looking down at her.

"Excuse me," she said, rising. "I have to go attend to the guests."

"Of course, my lady," Sazed said. "May the Forgotten Gods preserve you."

Mare scurried away in the direction of the ballroom. She could still feel the affects of Breeze's Soothing on her emotions.

.

A SCREAM TORE THROUGH THE air, ringing sharply in her tin-enhanced ears. Mare kept her metal flared as she bolted across the rooftop at a dead run, toward the direction she had heard the scream. She kept to the shadows, running on nimble feet. The occasional guard unit patrolled the streets below, and she couldn't afford to be discovered now. Her mission would have to wait. She had heard something in that scream. Terror.

The mists swirled around her as she bounded from rooftop to rooftop. All of her senses were heightened to their pinnacle. Tile scraped against her bare feet, and she was certain they must be bleeding, but she pressed on. She could feel every drop of water against her skin, freezing her to the core. But she had to run. She could not stop.

A narrow alleyway ran in between the shop she perched upon and the adjacent building. Mist obscured everything, but her tin let her see better and farther than any normal person. Her eyes opened wide with shock.

A Steel Inquisitor stood at the mouth of the alleyway, back lit faintly from the road behind. Two figures huddled in the ashen mud a few feet away. One looked to be only a child. Before her mind fully registered the danger, Mare flipped off the roof and soared down through the mists, landing directly between the Inquisitor and the skaa.

The iron spikes in his head regarded her silently for a moment. He cocked his head to the side, an amused smile showing brilliant white teeth. "A Mistborn and a Misting," he said. "I came here seeking one prize, and now I can deliver two. The master will be pleased. Two new Inquisitors added to our ranks."

Mare felt fear grip her for a moment, then forced herself to stop shaking. "You will not touch them. Take me instead."

The Inquisitor balked, harsh laughter coming to her through the mists. "You are only a Tineye, fool. You are nothing to me." As if to prove this point, he strode forward and brushed past her, whipping an obsidian axe from his belt.

"You will not touch them!" Mare screamed, launching herself at his back. He elbowed her in the face almost casually, and she crumpled, sitting in the mud. She looked up at him, dazed. The axe head gleamed at her in the mist.

"Nothing," he repeated, and then swung his axe.

Comments, questions, praise, critique? ~ Revan419