((A BRIEF FOREWORD: This story was written in full collaboration with my great friend "The Lettered Violet". I would invite you to take a look at her work, as she does some amazing writing and made this story what it is. Also, I'm very aware of the typos and grammar issues. These will be ironed out as time goes on, I promise! This story is already almost finished in my first draft as is, so you won't have to wait long for a finished product! Please enjoy))

ASHES, ASHES

CHAPTER 1 - Evening

Frost resented when a contract forced him to wear a mistcloak. The tassles only ever got in the way. He put up with it for now - his employer was the young heiress to a noble house. He needed to make a good impression, influence her to become a returning customer.

He would meet this heiress soon on her balcony. Reaching into his coinpurse, he dropped a lone boxing on the ground and Pushed. In an instant, he was thrust into the air in a deep arc. He burned tin to make out his destination along the dense line of steeples and domed roofs.

With grudging appreciation, Jana regarded the shadows thrown upon the stone balcony from the elaborate party inside. It wasn't anything like a great house's ball, she knew, having been invited to a few to her parents' consternation. The party was relatively modest, but was still probably beyond her family's budget. That wasn't her concern, however. Jana had a nice stash coming along.

The party, actually, was perfect cover. It wasn't large enough for anybody to care if she was there or not, but it was loud and bright enough for any unusual noises on the balcony to not be overheard.

Jana waited in the shadows for this Mistborn, this "Frost" person to appear. He had better.

With tin burning, the light of the party nearly overwhelmed Frost as he descended. He extinguished it and tossed down another coin next to his employer. She jumped to the side. He chuckled, and Pushed on the coin to slow his fall, then rolled onto the stone bricks made damp with The Mists. Rising, he brushed off his shoulders. "Evening," he said, adding charm to his tone. "Lovely evening to watch the Mists." He waited for Jana to respond to their predetermined phrase.

Annoyed that Frost had been able to sneak up on her, Jana scowled and straightened her skirt.

"I am Jana Borlyn, yes," she replied shortly. "And if you're Frost, an actual Mistborn and not some Coinshot with fancy tricks, I have a proposition for you."

Using iron, Frost Pulled the coin he landed with back into his hand. "I'm listening."

"There's a barge full of textiles on the first canal of the River Channerel." Jana lifted a brown potted plant and pulled out an envelope. "It can't reach its next checkpoint."

That barge was bound for delivery to House Wodard, one of her father's clients. If the cloth was delivered, Jana knew that Hafar Wodard would try to swindle her father out of the shipping charges by selling him "special" cloth at enormously huge prices. And Jana's father would fall for it. If the barge went missing, however, Hafar would have to pay for the entire barge and be obligated to pay the Borlyn house for the shipping and lost barge.

Jana held the envelope containing details of the barge's schedule close. "I need to know if you can do it. Make it look like an accident, something completely normal."

"You can consider it done, so long as there's good pay in it for me." The Mistborn put away the boxing he held and instead grabbed a clip, flipping the simple coin in his hand. He glanced through the windows into the ballroom below and his stare went blank for a moment. The colours stood out so distinctly among the stark white stonework, and for a moment he let his mind wander. So many lovely girls, so much money… He shook his mind free. He'd likely been staring longer than he realized. "Sorry, a bit unprofessional of me. Anyway, trust me, Lady Jana. I make sure every job I do looks like an accident."

Jana took advantage of Frost's spacing out to pull a few coins from her hidden purse. What was he staring at? She couldn't see anything through the infernal mist. When Frost looked back at her, Jana set the coins and the envelope daintilyon the balcony railing, careful not to make much noise.

"A third now. The rest after I hear of the disappearance from a source other than you." Jana knew from experience that these criminal types would stoop to anything to cheat her out of a few coins. But they were better than those disgusting boys at the party, who only showed interest because her family was wealthier than theirs. Frost was just there for the money, too, but at least he was honest about that.

"Lady Jana," came a slightly drunken voice from just beyond the doorway. "Are you out here?" Jana winced, recognizing the saccharine tones of Lord Perot, her family's favorite suitor.

"Take your money and leave," she hissed at Frost before walking into the light to block the Mistborn from Perot's view. "Just getting some nice air," Jana said loudly.

Before Perot could come into view, Frost dropped off the blacony and into the pitch dark. Instead of leaving, however, he hung from a lower balcony and burned tin. He wanted to hear this conversation. Maybe he could use it as leverage.

Thankfully, Jana heard Frost jump over the side quickly and quietly. It was very unlikely that Perot could have known he was there.

Lord Perot continued to talk, smiling in what he likely thought was a rakish, dashing way. "Why enjoy the air out here when you can enjoy plenty of drink and pleasant company inside?" He probably meant himself.

Jana twitched inside. "There is no pleasant company inside."

"Oh, come now, let's go back," Perot laughed, too drunk to properly realize what Jana had said and too stupid to know what she meant. "I've been meaning to introduce you to my mother." With the hand that wasn't holding a cup half full of wine, he gripped Jana's arm and pulled her into the lighted building.

If Jana pulled away now, she would make a scene. That wouldn't be good for her already tenuous position in the house, nor would it help the series of covert operations she headed. Never mind if it actually benefited the Borlyns. At least this next part was in action. So Jana let Lord Perot tow her where he wanted and decided to suffer through the rest of the evening.

The Barge

When he heard the talk come to an end, Frost pressed the clip he held to the wall and shot backward into the night. This barge would likely be stopped for the night, giving him ample opportunity to take it down.

With the pinpricks of lamplight drawn across the city, Frost sometimes forgot of the people below. He regretted it, but helping the ones suffering would only get him killed. He Pushed off fences and window frames, propelling himself faster and faster toward the canals. He had his job to take care of, not people.

Kredik Shaw loomed on the ashen horizon. He thanked The Lord Ruler he had no reason to be anywhere nearby. For a reason he couldn't explain, the spire terrified him. He felt powerless in its presence.

Among the lights and glitz of the small ballroom, Jana heard something interesting behind her. She hadn't actually been listening to Lord Perot's and his mother's inane prattle, but now she properly tuned them out. The voices were close but soft, and while Jana was by no means a tineye, she could make out what they were saying.

"I haven't been able to get any shipments through in months," said one man.

"Have you tried going through Borlyn?" asked another.

"Yes, and what's strange is that those are the only ones that work. Do you think that Gerard is doing something to his rivals' boats?"

"He's not bright enough for that. The Lord Ruler only knows how he's managed to keep his house afloat for so long."

"The son then. He's an intelligent fellow."

"Intelligent in all the wrong ways," the pompous man scoffed. "He likes his books but doesn't know how to talk to people. It can't be him. And don't ask about Lady Borlyn. It certainly would not be her. She's too timid. Besides, the little Lady Jana doesn't concern herself with anything beyond her suitors."

"Are you so sure about that?"

"Quite."

The conversation moved on. Jana found herself irked that these men thought she was an airhead, but she wasn't about to contradict them. That was the persona she presented to the noble courts, and it was going to stay until she left for the countryside. Whenever that was going to be.

With a flare of tin, the outline of the barge came into view. He singled out the sounds of the dormant boat and heard the impatient shifting of a pair of guards. He check for the blue ribbon-lines of metal, finding none. Odd, he thought. No armour? He tensed in midair. The guards were not simply guards. Hazekillers. Why would one barge be so well guarded? He shook the new worry from his mind and soldiered on. Grabbing a handful of clips, he flicked one into the midnight air, and slowed his descent until he hung suspended directly above one of the hazekillers, who seemed totally unaware of Frost's presense. He fished a clip from his pocket and carefully aimed the coin for the guard's exposed neck while it was still in hand. With his shot lined up, he Pushed. The clip implanted itself into the guard's spinal cord, and after a sharp gasp, the man fell to the deck with a series of low thumps. His staff clattered down, and at the abrupt noise the other hazekiller turned. He called out toward the hatch to the lower deck, and a moment later two more hazekillers joined the first. They took their stances. Now the fight would begin.

Frost dropped to the deck and Pushed clips in the direction of the hazekillers. They deflected the coins skillfully from their wooden shields. Frost cursed. They've had some training. He burned pewter and drew his daggers. "Go ahead," he taunted under his breath.

As the night dragged on, Jana grew more irritable. Lord Perot was as charming as ever, but she sent him home when he grew drunk enough to announce to the entire room that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Hopefully Perot's embarrassment would drop him from the favor of her parents.

Jana went out onto the balcony one more time, reveling in the freedom from the lack of crowds. Few people ever came out here, but Jana wasn't frightened by the Mist. Just annoyed that it obscured so much. Servants put the lights out inside. With the loss of light, Jana jumped back to the present. As she went back upstairs, she wondered if Frost would have done the job tonight, and if she should wait up for him. Mistborn, and those like him, definitely had odd hours.

Frost Pushed off a clip left on the deck, and soared over the hazekillers' heads. He spun in the air and shot another coin at one opponent's head, who blocked it by a hair. Frost cursed again. He rolled backward and unfastened his cloak. The mass of fabric drifted to the floor.

His obsidian daggers brandished, he dashed toward his enemy, flaring pewter to give himself a burst of speed. The hazekillers jumped back, but not in time. The ebon blades tore skin on one man's arm and the others stumbled back. The soldier Frost cut dropped his staff, but his shield was strapped to his arm. Smart man. Frost took another swing and plunged a dagger into the hazekiller's thigh. The enemy tried to shove Frost away, with no success. Occupied with his victim, the Mistborn failed to notice another hazekiller taking a swing for his ribs. The blow struck true. Frost gasped and recoiled, pulling the dagger from his victim's leg. He Pushed off another clip and backed off.

"Keep tight formation," one of the hazekillers ordered. "Brax, help Mint to his feet. I need both of you if I'm gonna take this Mistborn down." The downed hazekiller struggled to get to his feet, the one called Brax supporting him with an arm. Neither of them looked older than twenty. They would be the easier targets. The supposed leader kept his gaze as strong as his stance. He looked practically immovable compared to the other two men. Frost would take his time. No need to cause himself extra risk.

Make it look like an accident. The words echoed in his mind. If I can even finish this fight, I'll do what I can. The hazekillers raised their shields and gripped their weapons tighter. Frost wiped his offhand dagger free of blood and checked his pewter reserves. Still got enough. He flared the metal a touch. The pain where he got hit on the rib dulled and his footing felt more sure. "Are you going to show me you're actually hazekillers, or are you just going to pose like them?"

The hazekillers pressed their lips shut. The leader stepped in front of the others, raising his dueling cane. They would wait for him to move. He flicked a coin into the air toward the main hazekiller, then stepped to the side. He Pushed the clip at the injured soldier. His target crouched and deflected the coin. The main hazekiller stood his ground, but the final one - Brax was his name - charged. He yelled and raised his staff high. He kept his hands tight on the weapon and thrust for Frost's skull. The Mistborn ducked to the side. It proved too little, as the staff scraped his shoulder hard. He cursed, but kept himself in motion. Brax swung again, for the ribs. Frost ducked again and used the follow-through to stab the hazekiller's hip and avoid the blow. The dagger scraped bone and tore flesh. Rich blood spattered out, coating Frost's arm. The scent of copper filled the dense air. Brax yelped in pain, but kept up his defense. Resilient kid. The Mistborn pulled his blade out and slashed again for the hazekiller's face. It ripped skin open, another splat of red coating Frost's tattered shirt. The hazekiller shrieked and reached to cover his face. He screamed briefly, short on breath, as Frost raised his dagger to finish the job. "Don't kill me! I have a widowed mother!"

The plea for mercy caught Frost off guard. He forgot he could be such a monster at times. "Good luck surviving the wounds," he said. The words were sincere. He turned to the other hazekillers and pushed Brax out of his mind. The young hazekiller fainted - likely from trauma and blood loss.

The leader marched forward. He kept his shield raised high and his cane ready to strike. The previously injured Mistborn circled around Frost. Both kept their stances low. Frost put the thought of his brash actions out of his mind. He raised a dagger to each of the hazekillers. "Night won't stay forever, boys," Frost taunted. "Let's get this moving." He wanted to finish this fight soon. The taste in his mouth had turned sour. He grabbed another clip, dropped it, and lauched himself toward the leader. The opponent raised his shield high as Frost descended. His dagger lodged between the shield's planks. The leader slammed his shield - and Frost - to the ground. His grip slipped free of the dagger as he hit the barge deck. The hazekiller rose his shield again. Frost rolled to the side before the shield came down on his neck. He scrambled to his feet. The leader swung his dueling cane for Frost's leg. The other hazekiller rushed from the rear, swinging for Frost's other leg. No coins close enough to easily get out of the way and not enough time to grab one. He jumped, hoping to have the weapons miss him. They skimmed his pants as he flipped in the air, and the hazekillers both stumbled. He Pulled a coin into his hand and thrust off it again, dropping onto the already injured hazekiller. Bones cracked and a scream filled the air when Frost landed. /Don't let him suffer./ He reached down and deftly snapped the young hazekiller's neck. The scream cut short. "Sorry, kid."

The leader regained his footing, his face turned sour. "You Mistborn acting like you own everything. Why can't you just let the rest of us be?"

"Just doing my job," Frost replied shortly. "If I don't do this, I don't get paid."

"So you kill people who just want to survive under the Lord Ruler?" This last hazekiller practically shouted now. He'd act in rage when he fought. Or so Frost hoped. "We have lives too!"

"You think I want to kill you? I don't have much of a choice! It's you or me. If you don't want to die, you let me do my job."

The hazekiller said no more. He charged, shield-first, at Frost. The Mistborn flared pewter and side-stepped out of the way. The hazekiller kept running, but turned his shield back. Frost tossed his dagger before he noticed the hazekiller's defense. Now both daggers were stuck in the wood shield. He cursed. Pure instinct. Smart move. The leader rushed again with his dueling cane held high. Frost had no defense but his pewter. Coins would be no good. He took the next blow to his arms. They burned at the impact. Frost gritted his teeth and reached for one of his daggers. No luck. The hazekiller shoved him back and swung again. The cane connected with his cheek, and Frost stumbled. He spit out a large chunk of tooth, a spatter of blood coming with it. The hazekiller took a moment to take the daggers out of his shield. He tossed them far our of either of their reach.

As the hazekiller distracted himself, Frost grabbed a large handful of clips. He shot two in a row as his opponent turned back around. One punched a hole in the hazekiller's leather armor, the other bounced off his shield. The one that hit caused the hazekiller to gasp. He didn't lose his footing like the others. He paced forward and swiped his cane high, for Frost's neck. He ducked in time for the cane to scrape his forehead. His opponent's torso left exposed again, Frost Pushed another coin into the man's stomach. It punctured as well, and the hazekiller gasped once more. "Stop that!" He shouted.

"You or me," Frost repeated. He tossed another coin to his side, shot one more into his opponent's crotch, and shot off to the side. The hazekiller dropped to his knees. Frost grabbed one of his daggers as fast as he could while his foe puked. Pushing off one more coin, he descended onto the hazekiller with a scream. The leader turned his gaze upward, and Frost lodged his dagger into the man's left eye. His head slammed to the deck. He gasped, blood filling his mouth, and Frost watched in silence as his opponent's intact eye rolled back into his head. He removed his dagger, wiping off the leftover gore. This didn't have to happen. Then again, it did. Me or them, he told himself again. He had to tell himself those words more and more lately. He retrieved his other dagger from across the deck, then climbed down the stairs at the back of the barge to check on the goods below. He still had to find a way to sink this ship.

Frost reasoned to use a few bottles of ale to make the hazekillers look like they caused the ship to sink while in a drunken stupor. It was as good an idea as he could think of. He also used a large hunk of metal he found in the hold below to break a hole through the front of the barge. As water flooded the hold downstairs, Frost reutrned to the top deck. He had one more thing to grab.

Frost retrieved his cloak and draped it over his shoulder for now. He glanced back to the fainted hazekiller - Brax. He felt guilty for being so brutal in their fight, and for now letting him potentially drown. Even if he woke, he'd be too weak to swim. Often times Frost's instincts got the best of him. He had a slight suspicion the young man could be a Misting, which he often got with those he fought. His opponents usually never lived long enough for him to confirm his suspicions. He had his chance now, so he burned bronze, and detected a whispering pulse from the young man. Quiet, but rough and instinctive. Just as he thought. He's a Thug. He couldn't let the poor kid die so so easily. Pulling a pewter vial from his belt, he uncorked it and sat the hazekiller up. Frost emptied the pewter into Brax's mouth. Burning bronze again, he confirmed that Brax now burned pewter more evenly. Lucky guy to be able to burn while he's out. Now, to get you off the sinking barge. He slipped his cloak on, then awkwardly lifted the hazekiller into his arms. He Pushed off a coin left from the fight onto the boardwalk around the canal. With a grunt, Frost eased the hazekiller to the ground. "Don't go getting killed now, kid." Frost had done his good deed for the day. He Pushed himself back out into the night, returning to Borlyn Manor.

Before returning to her room, Jana sent all the servants to bed and made sure every light was off. Now in her chambers, she lit one tiny candle, unlatched her bedroom window, and set the candle on a table in view of the window. There. If Frost was going to show up tonight, hopefully he would see the light and know where to go. Jana wasn't as haughty as some of the other nobles who had such dealings, so she didn't mind that a meeting time had never been established, though it was a little annoying.

Since she had no idea if Frost would even be there that night, Jana made herself comfortable on the chair next to the window. Tiny amounts of Mist swirled into the room, making hypnotizing patterns on the floor. If somebody found her, Jana would just say she was tired from the night and didn't have the energy to get into bed. They'd probably expect that from the Lady Jana they knew.

After the stress from tonight's job, Frost felt like blowing off some steam, by playing a joke on his noblewoman employer. He raised his mistcloak's hood and, tossing a clip behind him, slingshot himself faster through the night toward House Borlyn. He flared tin as he approached. Most of the lamps had been put out for the night. To find her bedchamber, he might have needed to search a while.

Or maybe not. He spotted the flicker of a candle through the deep Mists. He tossed another clip over his shoulder and shot forward again, on a trajectory to fly straight through Jana's bedroom doors. Whether they were open or not wasn't his concern. He kept his tin flared and adjusted his trajectory on nearby metals. As he approached, he slipped his daggers free of their scabbards for extra effect. The next moment, he darted past the impatient noblewoman and straight into her room. He slid to a halt, using the doorframe behind him as brakes, and stood tall with daggers in hand.

Jana jumped back, startled by Frost's sudden entrance. Judging by the amusement on his face, he thought himself quite funny. She didn't let her surprise show for very long, however.

"What? Did you need to fight your way past the guards outside my window?" Jana asked sarcastically. She reached for her purse to pay the man.

"No," he said, playing along. "But the hazekillers on that barge gave me some trouble. You didn't know they would be there, did you?" He slipped his daggers back into their scabbards as he apptoached the young lady.

"Hazekillers?" Jana scowled. "I wonder if they were hired by my father... probably not. Why would Wodard hire hazekillers, of all things? He hasn't been attacked by allomancers, as far as I know." A chill ran through her as she considered the implications. Did Wodard know about her work?

"Well whatever the case, I'm almost tempted to ask for extra pay on this job. I didn't expect those men. I'm lucky a few of them were young men, not very well trained."

"Badly trained?" Jana almost didn't hear Frost's mention of payment as her mind worked. "Almost like they were normal soldiers just furnished with hazekiller equipment? That would fit with Wodard's frugality. But why would he want to scare off allomancers? Was something else on that barge?"

Frost paused and properly thought for a moment. "The two young ones were inexperienced, but their commanding officer put up a good fight. They worked as a team, despite being naive. They were legitimate. As for anything special on the barge, the only thing I could think of is the hunk of metal I used to sink it. Why?"

"If Wodard wanted to scare allomancers off, he must have thought his shipment was in danger." Jana made to run her fingers through her hair, but had forgotten that it was pinned up. All she did was make a huge mess. "Our house would be the only to benefit from this, which I know, but if it were an accident and nobody knew it was attacked...?" She looked hopeful at Frost, standing there so ominously, mistcloak tassels gently swaying in the Misty breeze from the window.

Still, Frost stood uncertain. "I don't think I'm following you, Lady Jana."

Jana huffed and folded her arms. He didn't need to get it, but she explained anyway. She might have to hire him for something else.

"This means that either Wodard knows I'm working on this side of the law, or that he has something to protect. Probably both. So: does anybody know you were there, and did you get a good look at that hunk of metal you mentioned?"

"That would be no, and no," he said with some regret. "I don't relay my contracts to others. Sadly, I also only tend to do what my contract explicitly requires. If you think this is important, I can check the canal for that metal. It might just cost extra, is all."

Jana was irritated. It was late, but she wasn't about to fall asleep. If Wodard knew about her, there wouldn't be a safe moment. But, if she could properly guard against whatever plot Wodard had brewing, perhaps things would get better.

"Fine," she snapped. "I'll double the payment and wait. It would be best to get this done tonight."

"I'll get it done, then. I'd appreciate if you'd wait for my return. I'd hate to come back to you sleeping. Doesn't look good for me, hope you understand."

Jana rolled her eyes. "Of course I'll wait."

Frost returned to the barge as swifty as he could carry himself. When he arrived again, he checked for Brax out of impulse. The young man was nowhere to be found. Not even a blood trail gave any indication of where he went. Frost shook his head free of the hazekiller. He burned iron, checking for the remains of the barge. Light blue ghostly lines appeared in all directions, pointing to nearby metallic objects. One thick blue line in particular stuck out among the other numerous trails. He Pulled on it, and with a bit of struggle, the large hunk of metal came hurtling toward Frost. He caught it on its way over his head and stumbled back a step. Flaring tin, the detail of the metal bloomed into view. Frost examined the ingot closely. /It looks like just an ordinary bar of steel./ He ventured to lick the dripping bar. /Yeah, definitely steel./ He coughed as the taste of filthy water filled his mouth along with that hzof steel. Tossing the bar back into the canal, Frost shook his head. /Why did they bring hazekillers to guard this thing?/