Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All the stories are true; no matter how scattered through time they may be.

Thus begins the foundations of our story.

A calculated punch was thrown with immense strength and speed at the Shadowhunter, who hastily deflected it, yelping.

"I'm not ready!"

"You always say that, Ruby." grinned her sister, readying for another punch.

"Maybe it's because this is a really unsafe situation!" countered Ruby, panting slightly. It was a point, a feature of the New York Institute was that it had a training room up in the attic with wooden beams twenty feet in the air, used for teaching balance and flexibility. The afternoon light filled in from the slanted windows, the metropolitan city glistening under the sun.

Her older sister, Yang, rolled her eyes. "It's fine. These beams are here for a reason."

"They're for supporting the roof."

"Well, two reasons then. Anyway, back to sparring."

"But-." another punch was launched at Ruby, who leaped into a back handspring and landed a distance away from Yang. Her cotton training shirt was beginning to stick to her back with the heat of hour-long training sessions, especially on the beams.

"Neat, you didn't fall off." Yang commented. Ruby pouted at her.

"Now you've jinxed it."

Abruptly, the door to the training room opened and a man burst through it, his blonde hair tousled. He looked upwards at the beams and emitted an irritated sound.

"Girls! What did I tell you about the wooden beams?! They're off bounds!"

"It was Yang's idea..." muttered Ruby.

"Dad, it's okay, they're safe."

"Safe or not, you two or not meant to be on them." said Taiyang, crossing his arms. "Now get down and meet me in the library later, Alicante's issued an Conclave meeting, so we'll have to prepare for it."

"What for?" asked Yang, but their father has already exited the room. She jumped down from the beams directly onto the floor, landing nimbly on the worn surface; a jump like that would've created injuries for mundanes, but to the Nephilim, it wasn't an issue. Ruby soon followed.

"It's probably about the heightened demon activity, The Clave's been sending so many messages about it." replied the dark-haired teenager, picking up her usual clothes as the siblings left the attic and descended the stairs toward their living quarters. The family had lived at the institute for several years, generally undisturbed apart from housing the occasional travelling Shadowhunter and even a Downworlder or two.

After showering and changing, Ruby soon arrived at the library, which was certainly a distinguishing feature of the New York Institute. When she and Yang weren't training or trekking through every street in New York, they'd be in strewn across the comfortable furniture in the library, reading the publications that all Nephilim were required to learn the contents of.

Rows of books lined the circular room, their shelves going up two floors and displaying priceless artifacts amongst the rows. In the middle of the room was a large desk, on which Taiyang was currently leaning against, looking conflicted.

"Dad? What's wrong?"

"The Clave have reported a demon attack not far from Brocelind Plain; not just with the usual lesser demons, with demons that they've never seen before. Not even the Silent Brothers know what they are. They've called for an Conclave meeting at the Los Angeles Institute to discuss strengthening our defenses."

"Did anyone get killed?"

"A couple of Clave members who got sent out to fight them. According to the survivors, the demons just vanished after they got killed, like normally. Although, it means the Silent Brothers can't gather information on them. The Clave's alerted the Spiral Labyrinth on the situation as well, to see if they have anything."

Ruby was just about to reply when the library door opened and Yang entered, rubbing a towel against her mass of blonde hair. "What's with the long faces?"

"The Clave's reported an unknown demon attack in Idris." Taiyang replied, getting up from his position. "They're giving us until midnight to start the Conclave meetings; I've sent a fire-message to Qrow so he can Portal us there."

"Us?" echoed the siblings, simultaneously. Previously, Taiyang had attended the Conclave meetings unaccompanied, and for good reason: they were always a strictly formal meeting.

"With these demon attacks, I won't feel safe with you girls being left on your own in the Institute. Besides, you two might be running an Institute one day, so you'll need experience."

"Dad, just in case you have amnesia, I'm seventeen."

"Yeah, we'll be fine!"

"You two are not arguing with me, the three of us are all going."

"Has he replied?" questioned Ruby.

"... Not yet." he gave an exhale. "I really hope he's not passed out from drinking again."

"I wouldn't be surprised." snickered Yang, earning an irritated look from her father. "I'm telling the truth!" the blonde argued. She had a point, their uncle had a habit of drinking absurdly large quantities of whisky. The effects of alcohol intoxication would arrive with much more difficulty for the High Warlock of Manhattan, compared to a mundane.

He arched an eyebrow, but didn't retaliate. "Go and get ready, I wouldn't be surprised if we at the LA Institute for a couple of days."

A smile crept up on Ruby's face. "Weapons?"

"Of course."

Within five minutes, the Ruby was already in her room and riffling through the possessions under her bed. The accommodation at any Institute was never glamorous; the walls were whitewashed and the furniture was plain: a narrow bed; a wardrobe; a chest of drawers and a desk.

"You are such a nerd for that thing." said Yang, sauntering into the room and nudging Ruby's leg with her boot. Muffled sounds of protest came from under the bed. She squirmed out, clutching a large, black box engraved with runes.

"Crescent Rose is not a 'thing'." Ruby scowled, opening the box. It'd had been with her every since she'd became a Shadowhunter; a large, heavy scythe crafted out of seraphic materials and treated so that it shone red and black, the respective colours of ceremonies and battles. It was currently folded into an oblong the length of Ruby's arm, resting in the box. She took it out and sat on the bed, running her fingers across the polished surface. Yang took a seat next to her, leaning backwards on her hands.

"Whatever you say, sis." Yang replied casually, running a hand through her drying hair. "Apparently, the Conclave are weary of the newly-appointed family who are running the LA Institute."

Ruby looked away from her weapon towards Yang. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I was sorting out the greenhouses a couple of days ago with Dad, when he got a fire-message from them. From how they wrote the message, they didn't seem too happy about the news. There's been rumours about demonic links or something."

"I'm sure the Clave wouldn't appoint anyone who has connections with demons."

The blonde shrugged. "You'd think, but the family used to run the Venice Institute, before it got destroyed by demons. Seems kind of weird to then give them responsibility over the largest Institute in North America-." she cut off abruptly, her breathing suddenly shallow.

"Yang? Yang! Is it-."

"I'm... fine."

"It's the heavenly fire, isn't it?" Ruby asked, frantic worry in her eyes.

"It's okay, I just... need to reapply the rune." Yang muttered, clutching her left upper arm.

"I'll do it!" Ruby exclaimed, getting up to fetch her stele from the desk. Yang leaned forward with a pained expression and rested her elbows on her lap, the insides of her veins tinged a pale gold. Her sister soon returned with the stele, reaching a hand out to gently push the blonde's short sleeve up. Yang flinched away.

"Don't. You'll get hurt." she warned, urgency in her voice.

"Runes have more effect if they're drawn on by parabatai! And I trust that you won't lose control of the fire- even if you do, I don't care. Please, just let me draw it on."

"... Fine."

The older Shadowhunter felt her sleeve being pushed further up, revealing a silver scar on her inner arm. Years of constant reapplication of the rune had left a prominent mark on the skin, as expected with runes. She gingerly stretched her arm out, allowing Ruby to softly clutch it with cool fingers and poise her stele.

Its sharp tip pressed into Yang's skin as it glided along the surface, accompanied with its usual sting as it left behind curving black lines. Before long, Ruby finished drawing on the rune; it now lay in place of the silver scar, and began to normalise Yang's breathing. She gave an exhale: half of relief, half of irritation. The heavenly fire within her veins, along with the permanent scar on her arm, was a constant, bitter reminder for Yang; a constant reminder of what happened five years ago.

"Thanks."

"No problem!" said Ruby, the worry on her face quickly disappearing. "Hey, we should go to the weapons room to see if there's anything else to take!"

"Sounds like a plan." replied Yang, her smile slowly returning to her face as she playfully ruffled her sister's dark hair. "Let's go, then."

"What's the problem now, the Clave's wet their pants with fear again?" drawled the warlock, taking out his flask with an amused look at Taiyang, who was sitting at his desk in the library.

"No- well, yes, but it's an urgent matter."

Qrow scoffed, taking a swig. "That's what they always say. I'm surprised they haven't shepherded all the Shadowhunters back into Idris."

"It's Idris which is in trouble, Qrow."

"I've sent the Clave fire-messages and they're not exactly explaining the situation properly. So much for good communication." Qrow said idly. "So, where are you off to this time, seen as though I'm your warlock chauffeur?"

Taiyang ignored the snide remark. "The Los Angeles Institute. I'm taking Yang and Ruby with me."

The warlock simply laughed. "Have the Clave lost their minds?! From what I've heard, that place's not being run by a good bunch."

"We'll only be able to draw conclusions when we see them." responded the blonde, growing impatient with the High Warlock.

"Suit yourself."

"Just... create a Portal so we can get there."

Qrow raised an eyebrow. "Okay, okay." he turned and walked towards the library door. "At least LA has better bars..." he stopped at the door, looking back behind him. "Do you have whisky in the kitchens, by any chance?"

"By the Angel, Qrow, no!" Taiyang exclaimed, exasperated.

"You're no fun." the warlock muttered, exiting the library.

Chapter Text

Being the most influential Institute in North America, the LA Institute was certainly not a let-down. The large entryway of the building, where the family had arrived, featured a floor made entirely of shining marble, depicting a detailed mural of the angel Raziel. Uncomfortable-looking furniture was dotted around the hall, which looked like it hadn't ever been used. A grand, carpeted staircase stood opposite the doors, separating the Institute into its North and South wings.

All Conclave guests had been given instructions to go to the South wing, where the many spare bedrooms were located, to rest and prepare for the meeting at exactly six in the evening.

The siblings had taken to exploring the Institute and its many features, impressed by its differences compared to its New York counterpart. Every window displayed a picturesque view of the beach, with its white-gold sand and rolling lapis ocean, basking under the late summer sky. It was a world away from New York, with its noisy, modernised society whirring on outside the Institute's Gothic walls. Here, the walls were a pleasing mix of pale wood and ivy-strewn stone, its natural materials corresponding with the environment outside. Numerous families, whose heads ran Institutes all over the continent, bustled around the corridors, conversing rapidly or sifting through Conclave documents as they walked, or both.

"This place is amazing," smiled Ruby, looking at a row of paintings depicting Nephilim battles that were hung on the walls. "I bet they have an amazing weapons stash!"

"Why did I not guess that you'd talk about the weapons?"

Ruby gave a blissful exhale at the thought of a large room with numerous, polished weapons adorning the walls and standing in rows on top of neatly placed stands. "We should go and find it!"

"I doubt a demon's gonna leap out in the middle of the meeting, but sure."

Normally, the weapons room was situated in the lower areas of an Institute for easy access in case of a demon attack. While navigating through various corridors and chambers, the pair came across a particular room that was so big it almost took up an entire level of the Institute, which was saying something; the building wasn't especially tall, compared to the NY Institute. Both the East and West walls were made out of clear glass, showing the endless, rolling ocean outside. As the siblings drew closer, they heard the unmistakable sound of a whip being cracked.

From the worn floor and assorted, blunt weapons that lay discarded in a corner of the immense room, it was clearly one which was used for training. In the centre was a female Shadowhunter, dressed in training gear with glossy black hair in waves down her back accompanied by a large bow atop her head, training with a whip gripped in her right hand. Her head jerked up, looking towards the door with amber eyes.

"... Yes?"

"We... were just looking around the place." replied Ruby. The black-haired young woman arched an eyebrow as the pair approached her.

"Are you two lost?"

A smirk appeared on Yang's face. "Lost in your eyes, more like." she responded, causing Ruby to have a sudden urge to punch her sister in the arm.

"... Right." the Shadowhunter said dryly. "I assume you two are here for the Conclave meeting?"

"Actually, I'm here for y-." Yang began, only to have Ruby's hand clap over her mouth.

"Ignore my sister." she said, giving a nervous smile. "I'm Ruby, by the way, we're both from the Institute in New York."

"Blake." the Shadowhunter's eyes flicked between the two as the younger one removed her hand from over her sibling's mouth.

"Nice to meet you!" smiled Ruby. Blake only gave a curt nod in response, slowly winding the whip around her arm like a peculiar bracelet. "That's a really cool whip, by the way."

"Thanks."

"Exotic, too." added Yang. "I've never seen anyone using a whip before."

"Mm."

There was a brief but uncomfortable period of time in which none of the three talked; Blake was about to walk away, when Ruby broke the silence. "This demon business is kind of a serious thing, huh?"

"If you ask me, The Clave's just overreacting." Blake replied. "The demons were slain just like normal ones once Legate Ironwood sent out some Shadowhunters, albeit they didn't spill ichor when they died. Now, he's stirring up trouble by demanding the rise of an actual Nephilim military - ridiculous at this current time, if you ask me."

"They didn't spill ichor?" repeated Yang. "Wouldn't that mean they're not demons?"

"I suppose, but they still had the clear intent on killing Shadowhunters. Whatever's happened, we'll have to keep the Conclave meeting going until The Clave sends further notice. My father's also adamant that The Clave gives a definite answer about a Nephilim Military - Ironwood's demand has sent The Gard haywire."

"Your father? Is he-."

"He's the Head of the Institute."

"Oh, right." said Yang. Blake gave her and Ruby a curious look, before walking off in the direction of the door without another murmur.

A loud clap sliced through the hushed conversations of the main Conclave members, who were seated at a large, rectangular table with a shining mahogany top. The lights from the chandelier above the table twinkled on its surface, which was littered with documents and glasses of water. A row of chairs was strewn across one side of a wall a distance away from the table for the Heads of Institutes' family members.

"My friends of the Conclave." announced Ghira Belladonna from one end of the table, an imposing, dark-haired man who was as tall and as sturdy as an oak tree. "I welcome you all warmly to the Los Angeles Institute. As The Clave has mentioned, we have gathered to discuss the unfortunate event that has recently occurred in our own country; the appearance of unfamiliar demons that taint our soil. Along with this, the potential constructing of a Nephilim military, which has been suggested by Legate Ironwood. I hope that you all have opinions on these matters - I will forward the Conclave's views and concerns to The Clave once this meeting has ended, and we will wait for The Clave's response. I shall begin with my own opinion on the situation; I oppose the idea of a military for the Nephilim. We will fight all as one race, not separated by the artificial forces that may tear us apart."

Voices began to return to the table, many in disbelief. Yang gave a huff at the words uttered by the Conclave members.

"I don't see why they're talking about this military problem - I thought the demons were the main issue."

"Not really." said Blake, who was sat beside her. "This declaration was really sudden - if The Clave does go along with this idea, then it'll affect how The Law is written, which will certainly lead to a clash in opinions everywhere." she explained as the Head of the Jacksonville Institute stood up and began countering Ghira's opinion.

"So, basically, it's a really bad idea?" asked Ruby.

"In my opinion, it's a stupid idea." responded Blake, followed by a 'tsch' from behind her, clearly audible even through the voices of the Conclave members. The three turned and saw a white-haired young woman sat two spaces away from them, glaring with icy blue eyes.

"It was not a sudden declaration, for your information."

Blake's honey-coloured eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"My family works closely with the Legate - in fact, my sister is the Tribune for him." she replied, with an air of haughtiness. "She told me that Ironwood's been planning this announcement for months, he just needed a situation to arise where he could say it."

"Ooohh, I know who you are, princess." realised Yang. "You're from the Seattle Institute, aren't you?"

She gave an irritated exhale and crossed her arms. "My name is Weiss, thank you very much."

"How do you know?" asked Ruby, curious.

"C'mon sis, white hair and blue eyes, which infamous Shadowhunter family share those traits?"

"Infamous?! We're not criminals!"

"Yeah, well, your family have conjured up some... controversial opinions for The Clave." said Blake bluntly.

"How dare you!" exclaimed Weiss, getting up from her seat and eyeing the black-haired Shadowhunter venomously. "I'm surprised The Clave even appointed your family as the Head of this Institute with your disgraceful secrets!" she accused, storming off. Blake stared at her as she left the room, her face a mixture of contempt and shock.

"... Disgraceful secrets?" echoed Ruby. Blake composed her face, and turned back to look at the siblings. The Conclave continued with their meeting, their voices growing louder and louder over each other. Ruby could see her dad, wordlessly bent over a pile of papers.

"Ignore her-."

"This is a disgrace!" came a snide voice from the table which belonged to a ivory-haired man with an almost comical moustache. "Your family should be supporting the Nephilim Military! Legate Ironwood's promised to construct a stable and powerful organisation so that we won't ever live in fear of demons!"

"I understand, Jacques, but the rise of these strange, new demons has proved to be a warning, we cannot take it lightly. Don't you think it'd be more suitable to work together along with the Spiral Labyrinth in order to combat these demons, instead of dividing ourselves over this sudden idea?"

"The Spiral Labyrinth?!" repeated Jacques, disgusted. "How can we trust a group of reclusive Downworlders?!"

"They are useful, there's no denying that - they may know more than the Silent Brothers. Besides, the Scholomance works closely with them."

"And that's exactly why I'm having second thoughts on sending my daughter there! The Downworlders are beneath us!"

"They're not, it is against The Accords to declare that." piped up Taiyang.

"Blasted Accords, they're nothing but-."

"I think you've had enough of your say, Jacques, please sit down." said Ghira firmly. The Head of the Seattle Institute reluctantly sat back down, glaring at Ghira. Blake's eyebrows tightened.

"We're getting nowhere with this."

She repeated that statement when the three were sitting in the Institute's large, deserted kitchen. The meeting had grown so out of hand that they'd decided to leave halfway through. Currently, the girls were seated on tall stools around the kitchen island, clutching cups of assorted beverages.

"The Conclave aren't listening to my father - I kind of expected that, to be honest. It's going to be a while before they send The Clave their definitive decision on the matters."

"What's up with the family from the Seattle Institute, anyway?" questioned Ruby, sipping from her cup of ice-cold milk.

"They've always been like that." said Blake curtly. "Anti-Downworlder, thinks that they're better than everyone else."

"They're the main problem, but I think you and your dad are right. They shouldn't be coming up with all this military business." said Yang.

"Exactly. But no one else seems to listen."

"Not yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Once it starts dividing the Nephilim, The Clave will be having second thoughts."

"Perhaps, but damages will already be made by then." Blake warned. "If The Clave don't sort out their priorities, it won't have positive consequences."

Chapter Text

The following days passed just as Blake expected - with no progress whatsoever. Not surprisingly, the atmosphere of the Institute grew tense with all the opposing views from the Conclave members; Blake was starting to grow irritated by the constant arguments and disrespectful remarks uttered by some. As a result, she spent most of her time in her art studio, which was a small, serene room on the upper floors of the Institute with walls adorned in charcoal sketches of lavish architecture, grotesque demons, intricately labelled weapons... anything that came to her mind. She, like her mother, had an affinity for art and a skill of drawing runes with pinpoint dexterity.

One night, around a week after the meetings had commenced, the studio's lights had stayed on in the twilight. The ebony-haired Shadowhunter had fallen asleep at her desk, surrounded by half-finished sketches and charcoal pencils which smudged against everything they touched. The whole Institute was deep in tranquil slumber, when a blood-curdling snarl tore across the whole of the building, waking up Blake and many other Shadowhunters.

She briefly rubbed the backs of her hands against her eyes before dashing to the studio's minute window and peering out, seeing the moonlight reflecting off the rolling waves and onto onyx figures milling around the beach. Her pulse quickened as she reached for her whip and quickly realised that she had left her stele in her room, a floor and a twisting corridor away.

Cursing, Blake opened the studio door and locked it before charging downstairs, her whip in her hand. All around her, Shadowhunters were emerging from their rooms, clutching weapons and tugging on their gear as they gave hasty murmurs. Amongst them were Yang and Ruby, their faces a mask of concern as Taiyang hurried across to them.

"What's going on?!" questioned Ruby.

"There's a large group of demons outside, they're trying to get in."

"Normal ones or the weird ones that attacked Idris?" asked Yang.

"We don't know, but they seem like the new ones. You two stay here while I go to find out." he replied shortly, before disappearing amongst the crowd of Nephilim. A call from a distance away urged the Shadowhunters to gather at the Institute's front door, to fight go out and fight the intruders. Yang removed her stele from her belt and deftly applied a Block rune on her forearm.

"Hold your arm out." she said. Ruby outstretched her arm, feeling the sharp sting as the stele drew the pattern of the rune across her skin which soon subsided after Yang had finished applying it. "Let's go, I wanna see these weird demons."

The two never listened to what their father told them to do, like most Shadowhunter adolescents.

Figures blurred past the siblings as they ran along the corridors and down flights of twisting stairs before arriving at the huge entryway, which was also beginning to fill with armed Nephilim. Yang and Ruby were similarly equipped in black gear with their respective weapons strapped onto them; Ruby had a row of throwing darts pinned across her belt and Crescent Rose in its folded state on the small of her back, Yang had a crossbow slung across her right shoulder along with electrum-tipped gauntlets that covered her forearms.

Making their way to the door, the duo spotted Blake leaning against the wall, scowling.

"Hey, Blake." greeted Yang. Blake gave an incoherent murmur in response. "Why isn't the Institute heading out?"

"They're trying to contact The Clave beforehand."

"That's a bit awkward for timing..." said Ruby. Blake gave a snicker.

"Exactly." she walked over to the doors, her hand clenched on the handle so tightly that her knuckle turned white. "The demons will be tearing down this place before long." she said, before exiting the Institute as swiftly as a cat. Yang and Ruby briefly exchanged looks, before joining Blake.

For a moment, the area outside the Institute looked peaceful. The gentle shush of the ocean drifted through the air, which was still warm with the lingering summer heat.

"I heard people saying that they're outside the East Wing." piped up Ruby as she produced a witchlight stone from her pocket, emitting a nod from the black-haired young woman. Yang pressed her palm against the backs of her fingers, looking slightly bored.

"Aw, I thought they were gonna leap out." she inhaled deeply, breathing in the sea air. "Still, living here must be heavenly."

A dry smile crept up on Blake's face as the three stepped out in the direction of the East Wing. "Mostly, apart from the occasional Kappa demon."

It didn't take them long to find the demons, and when they did, they certainly weren't disappointed.

The creatures stumbled about just like normal animals under the lights of the Institute, growling occasionally and sniffing the air. Some of them towered over others, some had a canine-like appearance, some resembled deranged bears. But they all had jet-black bodies which emitted wisps of smoke with disturbing bone-like protrusions covered in swirling red markings, their soulless eyes a glowing mixture of red and yellow. They lumbered around a patch of grass that was dangerously close to the Institute walls, the grass growing trampled and mangled under their claws.

"Neat, they look cool." commented Yang. Blake looked at her. "Well, cool in an unsettling demon way."

At that point, one of the bear-like demons spotted the Shadowhunters and began lumbering towards them on all fours, drowning any further conversation with a loud snarl. Blake pulled out an inactivated seraph blade from the belt of her training gear.

"Cassiel!" A long, curved blade appeared, a glistening bolt of white in the dark.

Blake darted forward and sliced it at the demon with a fluid motion, and to the trio's shock, the seraph blade dissolved into a wisp of white upon contact with the demon's onyx hide. Ruby stifled a gasp and the two quickly ran forward to help out.

"Did the seraph blade just-."

"Yes. Whatever they are, they're not demons." Blake replied as the bear took a swing at her with its claws, she dodged the blow and drew out her whip, aiming it at the beast. It connected with its paw, slicing it off and leaving behind a crimson stump where it once was. But no blood poured out; the paw simply fell to the floor and almost immediately dissolved. The beast gave a pained growl in response, continuing to swipe at the Shadowhunter.

She raised her whip again and aimed it at the head, her arm slashing in a horizontal direction as the whip sliced through its neck. The decapitated head fell to the ground and, like the paw, soon disappeared without a trace. The headless body swayed for a few seconds, prompting Blake to keep her whip poised, before also collapsing with the same consequence as its other appendages. Blake turned and briefly saw Yang and Ruby a distance away from her, fighting the other creatures, just as another beast lunged at her.

The black-haired Nephilim's hand drew into her jacket pocket and produced a shuriken. She released it with a swift flick of her wrist, watching the small weapon dart past the beast's ear. It turned its head, giving Blake enough time to step forward and kick at the creature with so much force that it flew backwards into a patch of shrubs. Blake gave a relieved sigh, thankful for the Strength rune that she'd applied prior to the battle.

Shouts could be heard through the commotion from the Conclave members, who had exited the Institute. Soon enough, several Shadowhunters leaped into view, holding gleaming weapons and running towards the creatures.

Blake watched them with a look of contempt. "About time." She turned and saw her father's broad-shouldered figure looming over her.

"Your mother and I have been looking everywhere for you!"

"The creatures were about to attack the Institute, I had to do something."

Ghira gave an annoyed grunt in reply. "Well, it was a dangerous thing to do. We don't even know what they are."

"They're certainly not demons, they dissolved my seraph blade."

The man's bright yellow eyes widened. "They what?!" he exhaled, rubbing his bearded chin in confusion. "The Clave will not be happy to hear that."

"Have they given any orders?"

"Yes, they've said to eliminate those - things - and then report back to them. They might ask to disband the Conclave meeting." he pulled his cutlass out of its sheath, glaring at the battle. "But we shall obey their current orders. For now, you should go back inside."

"What?! Why?"

"To give The Clave your information. Plus, no one under eighteen should be fighting in this dangerous situation."

"I'm seventeen! That doesn't make any difference!"

"Yes it does."

"But-."

"Blake. You must go back inside. Tell The Clave your experience and protect yourself and the Institute. I know you want to fight, but it's not your duty to prioritise that." said Ghira, and before long, he disappeared amongst the crowd of fighting creatures and Nephilim. Reluctantly, Blake turned around and ran back to the Institute doors.

The sounds of weapons slicing the air accompanied with the shouts of Shadowhunters soon faded away as Blake entered the entryway. It was eerily empty, quiet and not filled with the chaos that was outside, the lights flickering in the reflection of the floor.

"Hey." came a familiar voice. The black-haired young woman turned and saw Yang looking at her, looking slightly battered from the conflict.

"My dad ordered me to give a report to The Clave." Blake said before Yang could ask any questions.

"I guessed it was that. Let's go then, they have a lot to hear."

"... Where's Ruby?"

"Helping out my dad. I tried to get her to come along, but it didn't really work." Yang gave a smile. "We haven't been in a good battle for months."

"I don't think it's a good thing to want to have dangerous battles, but okay."

"Well, that's what Shadowhunters are for, right? Constantly getting into trouble."

"Good point." replied Blake. Without notice, Yang reached out a hand and gently drew her finger across Blake's cheek, causing her to twitch away. "What in the Angel's name are you doing?!"

"You had a smudge of charcoal on your face."

Chapter Text

"Sir, don't you think you've had enough to drink?" asked the barman tentatively, looking at the warlock who was currently on his ninth glass of whisky.

"I can handle my liqueur, pal." grumbled Qrow. The barman raised an eyebrow and walked off to serve others without a second word. Qrow gave him an amused look. "Mundanes..."

He lifted his glass and swallowed another mouthful of alcohol, hearing the ice clink against the glass. Setting the beverage down onto the stained surface of the bar, Qrow spotted a fire-message crackling on the wood, its flames dying away and revealing a crumpled sheet of paper. It had scorched a black mark into the wood, which the warlock covered up with his glass.

The Institute's under attack from the creatures that were mentioned in Idris. The Clave's ordered for an evacuation as soon as possible.

Qrow gave a loud groan in irritation, making the barman stare at him in an alarmed fashion. He pulled out a fistful of mundane money and tossed it onto the counter before getting up.

"Keep the change." he muttered, making his way to the door and exiting with a gust of cool wind.

Jaune Arc never considered himself a theological person; almost three years of wandering from state to state had numbed his belief in anything remotely positive. He was sat in the dank doorway of a closed nightclub, watching the waves in the distance gently rolling against the stretch of sand. Overhead, the sky was rapidly darkening.

The teenager had reached Los Angeles around a week ago, marking a new point in his journey. He'd visited areas of the West Coast while on holidays with his family, and had fond memories of the picturesque beaches. Suddenly, he heaved a small, humourless snicker at the thought of his family, living in Maine. Jaune doubted that they missed him. After all, he did have seven sisters.

Minutes passed like hours, as they usually did in his perspective. Jaune ran his hand through his matted, blonde hair, which was once radiant but was now stained with general grime. Someone walked by the doorway, giving the young man a disapproving look before continuing their journey at a slightly quicker pace. His blue eyes followed their back, not in the mood to shoot a snarky retort.

After more than two years of being a vagrant, Jaune had grown used to this constant flow of glares and hushed whispers from others, not that he enjoyed them. He rested his dirt-stained elbows onto his knees, pondering; he could get a job, he was old enough.

Perhaps settling down was a good choice.

"Hey!" came a gruff voice. Jaune looked upwards to see a scowling security guard.

"Y-Yeah?"

"You'd better get your butt out of this doorway, fella. We're openin' up."

Jaune reluctantly stood up, shouldering his battered rucksack and eyeing the security guard. "Do you have any vacancies around here?"

The guard snorted, crossing his arms. "You've gotta be kiddin' me. How old are ya? Fifteen?!"

"Seventeen, actually."

Again, the older man snorted. Jaune was beginning to wonder whether or not he was some sort of humanoid farm animal. "Well, no one's gonna hire a hobo. That's for sure."

"Right. Thanks for the help." muttered Jaune sarcastically, pushing past the security guard and sauntering off. He spotted a large building in the distance, almost shining under the moonlight. It didn't look like a house, or a public amenity. Nevertheless, the teenager crossed the road towards the building, which was overlooking the beach. Perhaps he could find a quiet corner near it to rest for the night; he'd find a job in the morning.

Mercifully, the area surrounding the building was quiet, with a low, white wall surrounding it. Jaune climbed the small flight of stairs that stood in between a gap in the wall, with his mindset being that technically, it wasn't trespassing if there was no gate. There was no sign indicating what the building was, but Jaune wasn't actively looking for one anyway. He'd spent all day wandering aimlessly around the streets of LA, and fatigue was taking its toll.

He found an empty corner, created by where the main building connected with a smaller one, and settled down there. Jaune sat on the hard floor, resting against his backpack and pulling his frayed hood over his head in an attempt to block out the hum of traffic in the distance. The air here had an evident tang from the sea; it was crisp and dissimilar to the air in the more urban parts of the city. Overhead, the moon shone like a beacon in the sky, accompanied by stars which dusted the inky blue.

The blonde gave the area a final look before closing his eyes. Even with the weariness seeping into his bones, it still took him a while to get to sleep.

And soon after he did, a ragged snarl resonated through the air.

Jaune's eyes cracked open, a dull pain in his neck becoming evident as he frantically scanned the deserted area. His heartbeat had quickened from being awoken so suddenly. With a sigh, Jaune leaned back against his bag, probably owing the sound to a stray dog. No big deal.

Voices could be heard from the building, growing louder and louder. Jaune groggily moved onto his feet with his backpack and approached a window close to where he was staying. The lights from it had switched on, flooding the outside in a dim light.

Slowly peering in, the teenager spotted two figures conversing, both clad in black and armed with weapons. His eyes widened and he retreated, hearing another inhuman sound from behind him. Jaune whipped around and saw a huge, onyx beast towering over him. It was unlike anything he'd seen before, with menacing yellow eyes like flashlights and claws longer than his forearm.

The mundane barely had time to scream, before the beast lunged, and everything disappeared.

"This is ridiculous."

The hospital wing of the Institute was full of people hurrying around and tending to various injuries. Some of the younger Shadowhunters had been sent here to help with the medics, though this was just an excuse to make sure that they were out of the way.

Ruby looked up and saw the white-haired young woman glaring at an unconscious patient on a bed. "What's ridiculous?"

"He's a mundane! Have you not heard?"

The dark-haired teenager had assumed that, from his lack of gear and runes. "Well, yeah, but he was almost killed by the creatures. They had to help him."

The older Shadowhunter scoffed, crossing her arms and muttering inaudible words under her breath. Ruby had seen Weiss around the Institute during her past couple of days here and still remembered the conflict between her and Blake during the Conclave meeting. Suddenly, the young man began to stir, letting out a small whimper as he turned on his pillow. Weiss noticed that the white pillow had been marked with grey streaks, and winced.

Ruby spotted his bag lying by the bed's leg, its zip open. It was clear that someone had inspected the bag beforehand. She spotted a torn map of LA amongst the contents.

"It doesn't seem like he's from around here."

"He looks like a homeless person."

"Well..." her words trailed off. That was a valid point.

Weiss gave Ruby a look with her piercing blue gaze just as the young man began to waken. He blinked at the soft lights overhead and began hoisting himself up onto his elbows before spotting the pair, confused by the swirling black marks that peeked out from beneath their clothing.

"Where... where am I?"

Realising that the mundane was now awake, the two Shadowhunters did not know how to exactly respond. Few mundanes were ever exposed to this world, and it usually didn't result in positive consequences.

"I'm surprised you asked that." Weiss lifted her hand and pointed an accusatory finger at the blonde. "Seen as though you were trespassing."

Slowly, the young man rubbed circles on his head. "Look, I was just trying to find a place to sleep for the night. I don't... I don't even really remember what happened."

"You were attacked by a beast, they found you unconscious on the ground." said Ruby.

"Beast? What beast?" he eyed the two, concerned. "Is this a... a cult or something?!"

"No, we don't worship demons." replied Ruby.

"Then what's going on?" he questioned.

"A lot is going on." Weiss drawled. "Though," she wrinkled her nose. "you should probably take a shower first."

Chapter Text

Jaune shifted uncomfortably on his chair while many pairs of eyes stared at him. He spotted the two girls he'd met earlier from amongst the small throng of black-clothed figures. His hair had returned to its bright blonde state and was still sticking upwards from the heat of the shower, despite his attempts to flatten it. Disconcertingly, his bag and usual clothes were not in sight, and he'd been given a grey shirt and loose cotton slacks to wear after the shower. The clothes were slightly big, so Jaune had to roll up the sleeves and hems, which made him look comical. These were pious gestures, but the place still made him feel uneasy.

He looked back at the people in the large office, all donned in black, nondescript clothing with various unfamiliar objects attached to their belts. They looked suspiciously like weapons. But what perplexed Jaune the most were the dark markings that adorned the skin on their hands, arms and necks.

Finally, a sandy-haired man spoke. "Would you care to tell us who you are?"

"I'm... Jaune. Jaune Arc."

"Are you from around here?" asked a dark-haired woman with a kindly look in her eyes. Jaune shook his head wordlessly. "I see. Where are you from, then?"

"The... the East Coast." Jaune decided that this reply was vague enough.

"Are you a wanderer?"

"Uh, yeah."

So that's why his bag was missing, they'd taken it and examined its contents.

"It must've taken you awhile to get all the way to LA, then." said a sandy-haired man. Jaune gave a tired nod.

"That still doesn't explain why you were trespassing on our property." growled a towering man from behind the dark-haired woman. She cupped a hand over his elbow.

"Calm down, dear." she murmured calmly. To Jaune's surprise, he did. He assumed that he was her husband.

"Look, I didn't mean to do any harm." sighed the young man. "I just... needed somewhere to rest."

The scarily tall and broad man gave a huff, not looking convinced. "Well, you've gotten yourself in a very bad situation."

Jaune didn't really know how to respond to that, so he shifted again on his seat. "Who are you people?"

The group all gave each other hesitant looks, their whispering conversations floating through Jaune's head. Slowly, the dark-haired man cleared his throat and spoke again. "We are Shadowhunters."

Shadowhunters. The name sounded alien to the mundane, and slightly cheesy, though Jaune decided not to express that. "Okay?"

"Enough of that, what do we do with him?!" came a voice from amongst the group, followed by another wave of conversations. "He needs getting rid of, Ghira! He's a mundane!"

"A mundane he may be, but he has no home." Ghira replied over the sounds of the group, which quickly subsided. He pointed at someone. "Go and check outside to see if the Portals have been set up. And you," his bright eyes fell back on Jaune. "will be joining us."

"What? Portals?! What are you talking about? Where are we going?" he rose from his chair, looking around in alarm. "Look, thanks for saving me from- whatever happened out there, but I don't wanna be involved in whatever this is-."

"I'm afraid you have to. We do not trust a mundane to go back into their world and not expose our own world." Ghira responded. He turned back to the group. "Someone must take the responsibility of taking him back to the East Coast."

The sandy-haired man raised his hand. "I'll do it."

"Thank you, Taiyang. Now, we must begin preparations for our evacuation. The Conclave meetings have been suspended until The Clave gives further notice. I thank you all for your brave actions in defending the Institute against the creatures. Jaune, you will meet us outside once you have gathered your possessions."

And with that, the group disbanded, leaving Jaune by himself in the large office. Well, almost by himself.

A hand landed on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" came a female voice. Jaune turned and saw a young woman, around his age, peering at him with intense green eyes.

"Oh- uh, I'd say yes, but not really."

The Shadowhunter smiled. "It was a bit redundant of me to ask that, sorry."

"It's... fine."

"We won't do anything bad to you. That'd be against our laws, so you don't need to worry." she tilted her head. Jaune's eyes flicked upwards to her shining scarlet hair. "Though, interaction like this with your kind is also against our laws, but that couldn't be helped."

"That's good to know, I guess. But it's still a lot to take in- I don't really want to be interfering with anything."

"It wasn't your fault you got attacked by those creatures outside, it was a fault from our world."

"I mean... I did trespass."

"We all make mistakes." she smiled again. "I almost forgot to introduce myself. I'm Pyrrha Nikos, of the Chicago Institute."

"I'm Jaune Arc- although you already know that."

Pyrrha gave a chuckle. "Well, it's nice to formally meet you, Jaune."

"So, your... kind has all these Institutes? Where Shadowhunters stay?"

"Yes, they're in almost every city in the world. This is the Los Angeles Institute, and you'll be going to the Institute in New York. The Xiao Long-Rose family live there."

"... Sounds... good?"

"Don't worry, they're friendly people." Pyrrha reassured. She spotted Jaune's conflicted expression. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I'm sure that it'll give you a better life than wandering the streets."

"Th-Thanks."

"Sometimes, you need courage to move on, and I'm sure there's a lot of opportunities waiting for you, Jaune. See you around!" she beamed, and departed.

Once Jaune had navigated his way through the winding corridors and into the infirmary where he'd stayed the night, he packed his pitiful amount of possessions and headed down towards the front door. The noon air was warm on his skin as he spotted a large group of Shadowhunters standing on a large patch of grass. The morning sun hung overhead, showing their weary yet determined faces.

He could make a run for it, if he was swift enough. Part of this situation terrified him; it was foreign and unknown, and Jaune didn't want to get involved. Jaune had picked up some of their words, and he'd never heard of them before. But another part of him - a minuscule part of him - overflowed with curiosity and ached for a new life, a life where his suffering could potentially ease.

"Jaune! Over here!" came a familiar voice. Jaune spotted the younger Shadowhunter waving at him cheerily.

He walked over to them. "Uh, hey."

"We were wondering where you were!" she chirped. "My uncle's just about to open the Portals."

The mundane blinked. "That makes no sense."

"Well, they're just methods of transportation for Shadowhunters. They get us from one place to another- just like that!" she explained, clicking her fingers. Jaune was still sceptical.

"... Right." he saw many Shadowhunters looking in his direction, some with expressions of pity, others appearing irritated, even angry. Many were holding hushed conversations, looking in his direction with sideways glances as they did so. "Look, if I'm being an inconvenience, then I can just leave-."

"Of course you're not!" the Shadowhunter replied. "It's our duty to protect people- well actually, our duty is to fight demons, but still."

"Demons?!" spluttered Jaune. She shrugged nonchalantly, as if her words were normal.

"Just part of the job." she spotted a figure amongst the crowd, and waved energetically. "The Portals are ready!"

A burst of shimmering light parted the group of Shadowhunters, revealing a tall, intricately built frame with swirling rays pouring through its gap. Jaune spotted the sandy-haired man stepping through it as casually as if he'd stepped through a normal door frame before disappearing.

Jaune pressed his knuckles against his eyes and rubbed them until black shapes formed on the inside of his eyelids. When he opened his eyes again, he spotted the young Shadowhunter staring quizzically at him.

"Uh... ladies first?"

"Sure, see you on the other side!"

She skipped forward into the Portal, vanishing just like the man did. The mundane stood rooted to his spot, staring at it until a hand slapped onto his back.

"It ain't that bad." said a female Nephilim with a mass of hair even brighter than his. "Just be sure to land on your feet; our Institute has wooden floors."

"I..." he heaved a sigh, knowing there was no turning back at this point. Every Shadowhunter eye had turned back to him. He walked forwards, spotting their heads turning in his direction, until he reached the edge of the Portal.

"C'mon mundie, we don't have all day." muttered a black-haired man who was leaning against the Portal's frame.

And with that, Jaune reluctantly took another step forward, letting the light consume him.

Chapter Text

"Do you think we should've debriefed him on the Portals beforehand?" questioned Ruby.

"Probably, although he got through, which is certainly something." replied Yang, leaning back on her chair. The family were back in the New York Institute, along with Jaune, who'd again fallen unconscious after tumbling out of the Portal.

The infirmary door opened, and a pale-faced Taiyang entered. He'd been conversing with a Silent Brother, who was sent to the Institute by The Clave to maintain order after the attack on the Los Angeles Institute and receive opinions on the Conclave's meetings.

"Yang, Brother Alistair wants to talk to you."

"Why? I thought he only came to sort out the Conclave's issues."

"You know that the Silent Brothers have to keep an eye on your condition."

The blonde Shadowhunter crossed her arms and looked out of the infirmary window. "Fine."

"He's in the library." said Taiyang. Ruby looked over at her sibling.

"You'll be okay, sis. Nothing's gone wrong." she said encouragingly. Yang gave her a small smile; Ruby was always an optimistic individual.

After a short walk along the corridors and down a flight of stairs, the Shadowhunter soon arrived at the library. The morning sun spilled through the windows, highlighting every book spine along with the robed figure of the Silent Brother who stood by the desk, waiting patiently.

"Miss Xiao Long. It has been a while."

The emotionless voice of the Silent Brother drifted into Yang's mind as she neared the figure. He had dark skin which was disfigured with scars and runes, his milky-white eyes standing out like headlights.

"I guess."

"Your condition has remained stable, as your father informed me."

"Yup."

It was always difficult to maintain a conversation with a Silent Brother.

"However, I've come to discuss what you plan to do once you turn eighteen. I assume you wish to declare allegiance to The Clave, as an adult Shadowhunter."

"Of course, but I don't see why that's relevant."

"It is relevant. The rune that you are using will concern The Clave - it is an ancient rune that has existed for centuries among our archives, but it was never intended to be used. If your condition becomes widely known, information may fall into undesired hands."

"... But I can't just stop using the rune."

"That is understandable, however, your constant use of the rune means that you cannot live a normal life without it, and it has meant that it's slowly becoming more useless."

Yang thought for a second. It was becoming evident that she was applying the rune more often than before. "You mean... people can live a normal life with the heavenly fire - without the rune?"

"It is possible, but rather hard to achieve. Within our archives, there have been documented cases of Shadowhunters being burdened with the heavenly fire but eventually learning to control it."

"How?"

"That's not a question that has a simple answer, even with the archives' information. It will require a visit to the Silent City, where we can run some tests before drawing conclusions."

The Shadowhunter's eyes narrowed. "What tests?"

"That cannot be determined until a larger group of my Brothers decide on a plan. At this point, the only action you can put forward is to have a mind strong enough to resist the heavenly fire."

"That's easier said than done."

"That may be so, but you've already shown that by being imbued with it in the first place, and surviving."

Yang raised her hand and tentatively pressed the tips of her fingers onto the centre of her chest. "I'll see what I can do."

"How are you feeling?"

Weiss gave a heavy exhale, staring at the Voyance rune on the back of her left hand, with its ragged scar beneath it. "I feel fine."

"You don't seem it." Pyrrha replied. The two were sitting outside a room in the Shadowhunter Academy, waiting for Weiss to be called for her first exam. To Weiss' surprise and slight sorrow, Pyrrha chose not to apply for the Scholomance, despite being one of the top students within the academy. Both Shadowhunters were intelligent and apt students, often ranking highly within their academic and physical classes.

What Pyrrha deduced was partially true. Weiss had always dreamed of attending the Scholomance from a young age, shown in her relentless work in the Shadowhunter Academy and her lack of parabatai. She'd spent almost her whole life preparing for these tests, so there was technically nothing to worry about. However, the Scholomance's exams were notoriously harsh and taxing, with few students passing; many often wound up with nervous breakdowns.

"I'm fine, I promise. I've been preparing for this for... as long as I can remember."

A distant ring of a bell echoed through the corridors, followed by the voices of students as they headed to their lessons. Pyrrha briefly turned her head towards the classrooms, before looking back at Weiss.

"You should get going." said Weiss. Pyrrha nodded and rose from her seat.

"Are you sure you don't need any last minute runes?"

"No, I'll be okay, thanks for asking."

"Well, good luck then. I'll see you at the dorms." smiled the red-haired Shadowhunter, before disappearing down the corridor. The tests usually lasted for a couple of hours, which wasn't an uplifting thought.

Moments later, the door creaked open and a student exited, looking ashen.

"How was it?" asked Weiss, less out of courtesy, more out of morbid curiosity.

"Terrible." they murmured, before walking off without a second word. The door soon fully opened, revealing a relatively large, brightly-lit room with three figures standing in it.

"Next!"

The white-haired Shadowhunter got up from her seat and strode into the room, her jaw clenched. The room was oddly arranged, with a single chair in the centre and a desk in the corner with a row of clipboards and steles. Upon Weiss' entrance, an adult Shadowhunter picked up a clipboard and examined it carefully.

"Weiss Schnee, aged seventeen. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Please take a seat, Miss Schnee, and we will explain the examination." said the Nephilim. She did so, with slight reluctance at the back of her mind. The examiner passed the clipboard to another Shadowhunter, who took it and poised their pen next to the paper. The third figure stayed by a corner; judging by their unique robes, Weiss guessed that they were a warlock.

Swiftly, the examiner picked up another clipboard and showed it to Weiss. It had a rune scrawled onto its paper. "Are you familiar with this rune?"

"It's the Recall rune."

"Correct. Can you tell me what this rune does?"

"It's a temporary rune that can make the user remember events that they may have forgotten, like ones from childhood."

"Correct. Have you ever used one?" asked the examiner, their voice steely. Weiss shook her head. "This rune, when paired with a spell devised by the warlocks of the Spiral Labyrinth, can cause the user to vividly hallucinate about these events. These hallucinations will be experienced by both the warlock who conjured the spell and the host. We plan to see your past events, your reactions to these events, and we will judge your psychological state accordingly. Do you have any questions?"

The psychological test. All students of the Scholomance needed to be of sound, solid mind. This was one that couldn't receive much practice beforehand, and one that Weiss ironically hoped would be one of the last.

She shook her head again.

"Then we will begin the test." the examiner announced, signalling for a stele. "The rune will be applied to your neck, and the spell will be cast soon after."

Before long, Weiss felt the sharp tip of the stele press into the side of her neck, bringing its usual sting as it began to glide along her skin. Almost instantly after the rune had been applied, assortments of events started to trickle through her mind like a leaking tap. She spotted the warlock raising his hands, which were glowing with an intense blue flame, before everything turned to black.

Chapter Text

Weiss was standing by a grand four-poster bed in the heart of the Schnee family's manor, situated on the serene outskirts of Alicante. Judging by the height at which she was stood, she assumed she was around seven. The room was quiet with a sombre mood; the silence only broken by the sounds of water dripping into a jug as her sister wrung a wet cloth and pressed it onto their grandfather's burning temples.

This was only a hallucination, so Weiss didn't have any control over her seven-year old state. She could only wait until her younger self clambered onto the bed, earning an irritated glare from Winter, though she didn't say anything. Slowly, Weiss peered over the swathes of duvet towards the wrinkled face of her grandfather, whose eyes were clamped shut in pain and fatigue. Beads of his sweat mixed with the water from the cloth and ran down the sides of his forehead onto the pillow, creating small dark patches on the silk. The dark edge of an iratze on his pale neck was visible above a strip of duvet, though it wasn't doing much to relieve his pain. His breathing was ragged, with disconcertingly long pauses in between each difficult breath.

The bedroom door opened, revealing the Schnee family butler, Klein. He was carrying a brown bottle of vicious fluid. "This linctus should help soothe the coughing, Mister Schnee." he said, setting the bottle down on the bedside table. He didn't receive a reply. "Has... has your grandfather worsened?" he asked Winter, who solemnly nodded.

"Perhaps we should call for a Silent Brother." she suggested, taking the cloth off his temples and dunking it back into the ice-cold water.

"As much as I hate to say it, I doubt they would be able to do much." sighed Klein. Suddenly, loud crash came from outside the room, causing the butler to hastily look out of the door. "Master Schnee! No- don't touch the broken vase!" he hurried out and closed the door behind him, leaving the sisters in the silence again.

"Winter?" Weiss heard her younger self say softly.

"Yes?"

"Is our grandfather going to be okay?"

The older sibling didn't give a direct answer, wringing out the cloth again. "I don't know, Weiss."

"But-." she was cut off by a racking cough from her grandfather, who opened his once-bright eyes drearily. He spotted Winter pressing the cloth onto his forehead and Weiss kneeling on the duvet, staring at him with large, worried eyes.

"My dear granddaughters," he was cut off by another loud cough. "what are you two doing here?"

"You were taken ill, we've come to watch over you." explained Winter. "Mother's gone to visit the apothecary in Alicante."

"I see." he said weakly.

"Grandfather... you're going to be okay, aren't you?" asked Weiss.

"I can't guarantee that, snowflake." he replied, "I am an old man who's inhaled too much coal dust for his own good."

"But you can't die, you're the best grandfather!"

"Weiss, calm down." warned Winter. "You'll give grandfather a headache."

Nicholas chuckled gently, suppressing another urge to cough. "Don't fret, I can pass onto the next life knowing that I have a family who can continue my legacy." he removed his arm from under the layers of duvet, letting Weiss clasp onto his hand. She nodded fiercely, looking proudly at the Schnee family ring on his finger. The wrinkled skin on his hand was fragile and worn, as delicate as the pages of an ancient book.

"We will, grandfather."

He smiled. "I know you will." he closed his blue eyes, his grip on his granddaughter's hand slowly loosening. His chest rose with one last breathe, and fell, for the final time.

The Shadowhunter was numb with emotion; the pain of losing her grandfather, she remembered, was something her young self could never struggle past. Images of Nicholas reading to her, crafting various gadgets in his workshop, endlessly teaching her about the workings of the Shadow World flew across her vision in a whirl, before everything faded away, revealing another past experience.

Weiss was in her room at the Seattle Institute, around a year later, reading an elaborately annotated book explaining the Downworlders and their societies. The book's intriguing pages stared up at her young face as she sat bolt upright on the edge of the bed, her toes barely touching the floor.

She was just about to turn the page when the door opened, and her father strode in. He had a dagger and stele attached to his belt, which Weiss didn't like the sight of.

"What are you reading?"

"I..." the words wouldn't come, her father hated Downworlders. "Just a book about our world, father."

His eyes narrowed and he snatched the book from her lap, examining its contents. The man's face contorted with disgust. "This is a book about Downworlders- the very filth of our world! Where did you get it?!"

"Th-The library, father."

Jacques glared at her, closing the book and throwing it across the room. "You are not allowed into the library without my supervision."

"I was just reading on-."

"Don't you dare talk back to me!" he thundered. "Give me your left hand."

"Why?"

"I came here for a reason! Give me your hand, now!" he commanded. His daughter didn't move. Abruptly, he snatched Weiss' arm, pulling at her arm socket so that she yelled.

"What are you doing?!" she shouted, trying to reclaim control over her arm with no avail.

"Shut up, you stupid girl!"

A searing pain sliced through her hand as her father drew a dagger across it, causing scarlet blood to drip down onto her pristine clothes. Jacques tossed the bloody dagger to the side, taking out his stele and drawing a Voyance rune over the cut, causing a blinding pain which made the girl scream.

"If you want to be a Shadowhunter, then endure this pain!"

He was wrong. It was against The Law to Mark a child under the age of ten. It was a rare and brutal practice which caused the child to gain The Sight at an earlier age, technically making them a Nephilim sooner. Jacques only got away because he managed to abuse his power and bribe The Clave into not convicting him.

Everything had faded again, leaving Weiss with hate and anger raging through her veins. She could feel her hand burning with the pain.

From this point onwards, the hallucinations became more and more irregular, sometimes passing by in a blur of hateful words and distorted visions. Jabs of pain accompanied these experiences.

"I only married you for the power!"

A wine bottle smashed onto the floor, its dark contents bleeding into the carpet.

"The Schnee family should fall. They're disgraceful."

The faces of many Shadowhunters appeared. Shadowhunters who uttered those words whenever they saw the family.

"Dear sister, you were being big-headed by charging into the fight with that demon. And now your pretty face is ruined, how awful." Whiteley's snide voice resonated through her mind.

Excruciating pain pulsed through her left eye. She looked up and saw a demon raising its weapon, before swiftly bringing it down on her face and drowning everything in black.

Blake's slender hands flipped through the yellow pages of her copy of The Shadowhunter's Codex as she leaned back on an arrangement of cushions in the window alcove at the library. Her parents were "conversing" with the Silent Brothers in the office about the situation, leaving Blake alone with her thoughts on what had happened.

She skimmed the book, her brows furrowed as she looked for an explanation which she didn't receive. The Shadowhunter had fond memories of her parents gently reading the Codex along with her when she was still learning about the ways of the Nephilim. However, nothing the Codex mentioned was even slightly similar to the creatures that had invaded the Institute. Blake had already consulted three different books on Demonology, a book on Nephilim history and even a book on Dark Magic which attempted to bite her fingers, but none of the books mentioned the creatures, or even hinted towards them.

Dissatisfied with her research, she closed the Codex and set it to the side, looking out of the window at the California ocean, its waves tinted orange from the setting sun. The Institute's surroundings were always breathtaking.

"Miss Belladonna." a voice echoed in her head, causing her to turn around with a gasp. She spotted a Silent Brother staring at her with his deadpan eyes.

"... Yes?"

"Your father wishes to see you in his office."

"Oh, uh, thanks." she muttered. The Silent Brother turned to begin soundlessly walking away, when Blake quickly put her hand out towards him. "Wait."

"What is it, Miss Belladonna?"

"Do you... know of the Faunus?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, during which the Silent Brother's eyes bored into the Nephilim. "Our archives do hold some information on them, but the creation of the Faunus is believed to be a myth. Why do you ask this?""

"I... I was just curious."

For a moment, Blake believed that the Silent Brother was going to continue the conversation. But instead, he again turned and began walking towards the library doors, and his voice didn't appear again in Blake's mind.