Chapter Text
London, 1870
The eerie half light of the crescent moon cast shadows across the city of London, as the bells of the St. Paul’s Cathedral chimed the witching hour. It was a subtle signal to haste any remaining mundanes into shelter. Under the same moon, the Downworld came to life.
No longer under the guise of glamour, a group of hooded figures strode boldly by the Thames, their foreboding shadows sent the nixies skirting below the surface scattering.
To the unknowing eye, the church they approached looked rundown and abandoned. The gravestones sat scattered, stain-glass windows broken, sloping grounds unkempt. But the group strode forward, entering with purpose. The man was waiting for them, seated in the front pew, head bent as if in prayer. The group knew better.
“Magnus Bane”.
The man lifted his head, paused, and turned. His yellow eyes glimmered in the darkness, a knowing smile playing on the corners of his lips.
"Elias Wood”.
The foremost cloaked figure took down his hood, revealing lilac skin and pitch black eyes. Magnus eyed him coolly, the smile still lingering.
“I was under the impression you did not haunt London nowadays.” Elias spoke, his voice cold and raspy.
Magnus considered him for a second, before rising to his feet and nonchalantly placing his hands into his pockets. He was wearing a particularly fancy looking tail suit, if one did not know better, it could be assumed that he had come to this church to make his final peace.
“It is true that I do not make it a habit to linger in London much anymore-too many hard memories.”
Elias surveyed Magnus; his solid black eyes locked onto the cat pupils. “So I imagine you know why we are here.”
Magnus gave a low chuckle, “You are angry.”
“That would be an understatement.” A female voice echoed through the church, her anger sending a ripple through her companions. Elias raised his hand to calm the crowd, his eyes still firmly locked on Magnus.
“You killed him.” The sudden ice in his voice sent a faint chill down Magnus’ spine.
“I did.” He had removed his hands from his pockets, a faint blue glow emanating from his fingertips. It was Elias’ turn to smile, but as he spoke, his fury marked every word.
“Two centuries ago, you were merely a glimmer in a demon’s eye. Leon was feared. The most powerful. He was a god.”
Magnus laughed again. “And yet, I am here. And-“. He paused, gesturing around him, almost comically. “Where is he?”
The woman beside Elias gave a low growl, and made steps towards Magnus, red sparks beginning to swirl around her; Elias pushed her back. He had still not taken his eyes off of Magnus.
“He will live as long as we do.” Elias spat.
Magnus narrowed his eyes. “You know as well as I do, you are useless without Leon.”
Elias laughed. “Tell that to the families of the Shadowhunters we killed just this month. And the mundanes.”
“Fools didn’t even know what hit them.” The woman growled again, and Elias gave another smile.
“I did what had to be done Eli.” Silence filled the church. “It was only a matter of time before the Shadowhunters caught on. And they would not be as nearly as forgiving as our kind.”
Elias seemed to consider this for a moment, but remained silent.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere I must be. Goodnight.” A portal opened behind him, and with a jaunty wave he stepped through and disappeared.
The woman took a step forward, and met Elias’ eye. “You let him leave. Was killing him not the whole point of this night?!”
Elias met her gaze with a cool gleam. “This is not the end Juliet.”
She tilted her head in confusion, and Elias was briefly reminded of her youth. Her arrogance. “What are you implying?"
Elias turned to face the rest of their group; all still shrouded in the darkness of their cloaks. “I will make a promise to you-to Leon.”
The rusted bells of the church began to clang as Elias felt his magic surge. “For as long as he may live, let his soul know no peace.”