Chapter Text
It all started in Idris, as most things do.
The Hollander family lived in Alicante, tucked away in a manor house by the southern part of the river. They were, as Shane’s maternal grandmother put it while she tutored him every day, highly regarded and respected. Old, honorable, and influential, she emphasized, as she stood over him while he read whatever the reading was that day. He knew his grandmother wanted him to be great, wanted him to be the best in his class at the Academy once he was finally of age to attend. Three years, he thought to himself, tracing the familiar words in the Codex on the table in front of him that spelled out the story of Jonathan Shadowhunter and the history of Shadowhunters. It was heavy, the realization that his family stemmed from those early warriors, and that he was simply one more person in the long line of fighters; he was yet another Hollander to join the ranks of an Institute to possibly become its Head, or join the Council and potentially become the Consul.
He absentmindedly tapped the page, making sure to flip the page every so often to make it seem like he was reading. He didn’t particularly want to be either of those options, not since the first time he found out what a Centurion was. He knew he wasn’t suited for politics, since it was the one thing his grandmother always bemoaned, and politics was the game played in Institutes and the Council. He wanted to go and fight demons in the field, wanted to be a scholar and deal with cases that fell outside of the Law. His fingers pinched the side of the page he was on when he heard voices from outside the study room.
“His birthday will be in a few days, so just wait a few more!” He heard his mom exclaim, voice muffled behind the heavy wooden doors.
“I have already scheduled his rune ceremony with the Silent Brothers. I will not wait any longer.” The voice of his maternal grandfather was monotone and heavy.
“You waited until I was almost ready to go to the Academy, so why won’t you wait a little longer for him?!” His mom sounded furious, like being Runed exactly at ten was something terrible.
“Your mother has informed me of his progress. I will not let such a talent be held back, so he will be Runed on his birthday.” His grandfather’s tone remained consistent, “The Silent Brothers have agreed, and so it will be done.”
Shane peered up at his grandmother, who remained on the couch nearby. She had always told him, with a tone of pride in her voice, that being Runed at ten was something to be proud of, that it was a sign of his talent and skills. To be trusted with the responsibility and duty of a Shadowhunter spoke loudly of his family and his lineage—his breeding, she insisted—as well as his own strength. Shane often wondered, while he was alone in his room after his lessons, whether his grandmother really thought he was skilled, or if she was only seeing the glory to be earned by having a Hollander be Runed at ten. He knew that desire, knew it almost as intimately as he knew the Voyance and Enkeli runes, as something traced over and over again until it became something ingrained and reflexive.
He knew he was to attend the Academy, but he wanted more than just that, and it just so happened that his grandparents wanted more than that, too. To have a Hollander Runed at ten would be enough to keep the other families on their toes regarding their own descendants, but to have a Hollander go to the Scholomance? That information would keep them busy, his grandmother laughed when she explained it to him. Only the very best go to the Scholomance, Shane. The other families in Idris wouldn’t dare claim their young ones would make it in. Except us.
Shane reached the end of the chapter and closed the book, getting up from his chair and returning it to the shelf it came from.
“Finished?” His grandmother asked.
“Yes, grandmother.” Shane nodded, crossing his arms behind his back as she taught him to; stand at attention when a superior addresses you.
“You may go.” She waved a hand at him, but gave him a small smile. “Remember to practice your runes. I will collect your paper before dinner.”
“Yes, grandmother.” Shane bowed his head and uncrossed his arms, moving quickly out of the study. As he made his way down the hallways to his room, he felt his shoulders relax. He liked drawing runes, liked drawing them again and again until they became perfect. He was especially fond of the Equilibrium rune, the one that the Hollander family insisted upon as the third rune. When he reached his room and closed the door after entering, the world grew a little quieter. He walked over to his desk and pulled out a blank sheet of paper, sitting down and beginning to practice. Dinner was secondary; he was to inscribe the runes into his mind. A prepared Shadowhunter is a living one, and Shane was determined to be the best there was.
Facilis descensus Averno.
The motto rang in his ears as soon as the day of his Rune Ceremony dawned. It was to take place in the Hall of the Accords, a large building that Shane had only ever set foot into for important events. It was to be an intimate affair, his grandmother insisted, only the close relatives of the Hollander and Monteverde families were to be allowed in. That meant that his mom, dad, and both sets of grandparents were to attend, which made him feel a little better than if there were more people from each family going.
Shane tugged at his formal black suit, already uncomfortable as they began to make their way through Alicante, towards Angel Square and the Hall. He could hear people whispering around them as they walked down the streets, and their eyes made him twitchy. Feeling a hand rest on his shoulder, he looked up to see his dad smiling softly at him. Shane felt his nerves ease a bit, giving his dad a tremulous smile back. The looming building grew closer and closer, and that faint ease seemed to vanish just as quickly as it came.
“I stand before my fellow Shadowhunters,” Shane began to mutter, eyes not leaving the long white staircase as the party drew nearer, “To the Angel, I entrust my life.”
“Shane, are you doing alright?” A voice whispered, and he turned his head to see his mom with a look of concern on her face. He felt like he would keep reciting the Oath if he opened his mouth to reply, so he simply nodded his head. His mom kept looking at him, as if she was searching for any minute indication that he wanted to leave. He did, which made it all the harder to hide his real feelings from her. She finally looked away once the group reached the bottom of the staircase, and everyone remained silent as they climbed the stairs. After reaching the top, his grandfathers pushed the double doors open, and Shane had to hold in a gasp of surprise at the inside.
The large room was decorated from the ceiling to the floor in red—red draperies, red flowers, red cloth—with a long, red carpet that led to the center of the room, ending in front of the mermaid fountain. A Silent Brother stood to the side, draped in the long robe with their hood up, their typical attire.
“Love you,” his mother whispered, pressing a kiss into his hair before turning left to stand by her parents.
“Love you,” his father repeated, tapping his back before turning right to stand by his parents.
Shane stood still, frozen in place by the Hall’s grandeur, before he slowly began to walk down the carpet. The skylight scattered rainbow light around, bathing the pale white walls in a multitude of colors. The room was silent, except for the sounds of the fountain’s running water and the faint noise of his shoes on the carpet. After what seemed like forever, Shane found himself standing in front of the fountain and turning to face the Silent Brother.
Hello, young Hollander.
Shane startled, eyes quickly darting around where the Silent Brother’s face was hidden under the hood. Hello, he tentatively replied back mentally, unsure.
As your family has told you, you will first recite the oath. After, I will place the Voyance and Enkeli runes on you.
Shane slowly nodded his head, feeling the weight of tradition that he knew he would be accepting settle on his shoulders.
Let us begin.
Shane took a deep breath and began to recite the oath that he had long since memorized:
“I stand before my fellow Shadowhunters
To the Angel, I entrust my life,
To receive the rune of the Angel.
And vow to uphold the laws of Heaven.
I take this Mark to honor Him;
To bring His light into me
So I may join the ranks of the Shadowhunters,
The guardians of peace.”
The room remained silent, but Shane noticed out of the corner of his eyes that both sides of the families had closed their eyes and slightly bowed their heads.
Now, it is time for the runes. Extend your dominant hand.
Shane held out his right hand, and the Silent Brother brought up a stele to the skin. When he pressed down, Shane held in his noise of pain. The rune glowed a bright red, and the sting the stele left behind as the rune was drawn caused him to bite down on his lip. After a few moments, the rune faded into black, and Shane looked down at his hand in awe. The Voyance rune—the symbol of his official status as a Shadowhunter.
For the Enkeli rune, where will its placement be.
Shane thought for a moment, but he already knew, just as the Silent Brother knew, where he wanted it to be placed. He reached up and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, enough so that the hollow of his throat was visible. The Silent Brother lifted the stele again, and Shane held his breath as he felt the sting.
The ceremony is complete.
The Silent Brother moved away from Shane, and he felt the sting once again recede. Shane bowed toward the Silent Brother, who simply moved toward the back of the room and left.
“Congratulations,” his maternal grandmother spoke, “you are now an official Shadowhunter.” Shane felt his mouth twitch upward, but he was more enthralled in tracing the Voyance rune on his hand.
“Are you ready for the party?” His mother asked, and he slowly nodded his head. Shane wasn’t, to be honest, but he knew that the sooner he showed up, the sooner he could leave and the more time he would have to trace his new runes.
“Next one will be the Equilibrium rune.” His maternal grandfather tsked, “‘upon the limbs’, as my father put it.”
“Let’s head to our manor,” his paternal grandmother chimed in, “the guests should already be arriving.” His paternal grandfather remained silent, but began to walk to the doors of the Hall.
“Come on, Shane, let’s go. The Monteverde manor is smaller than the Hollander one, but it has a beautiful pond in the backyard.” His father motioned for him to follow, so Shane did.
The descent into Hell is easier than I thought it might be, he thought to himself. The next step on the journey is to the Academy. Then after that, Shane smiled, is the Scholomance.