✓ | Silent Shadows ⋆ Will Her...

By juIianblackthorn

135K 5.2K 1.7K

❝Someone will remember us, I say, even in another time. ❞ After surviving and successfully escapin... More

SILENT SHADOWS
CHAPTER ONE: DETERIORATE
CHAPTER TWO: DISCOVER
CHAPTER THREE: SAVE
CHAPTER FOUR: AWAKE
CHAPTER FIVE: RECONNECT
CHAPTER SIX: ANGER
CHAPTER SEVEN: BALANCE
CHAPTER EIGHT: UNITE
CHAPTER NINE: ENCOUNTER
CHAPTER TEN: NEGOTIATE
CHAPTER ELEVEN: CHANGE
CHAPTER TWELVE: PLAN
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: ACT
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: MEET
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: ATTACK
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: LIE
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: WOUND
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: CHEER UP
CHAPTER NINETEEN: RECONCILE
CHAPTER TWENTY: HEAL
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: HIDE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: UNVEIL
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: TRICK
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: DESTROY
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: LOSE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX: LIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: MOURN
EPILOGUE
NEXT BOOK: HUSHED WHISPERS

PROLOGUE

14.4K 362 203
By juIianblackthorn

Our paths are never clear. We know our purpose, but do not see what tomorrow may bring. It is a blessing and a curse, at the same time. At least, that is what they tell us. Elders tend to shield us from the terrible parts life may bring, but their power to do so only extends to a certain point. Not even they can predict someone's future. They couldn't have foreseen this ⎼ and for that, I blame them. God, I blame them. We are facing many temptations in our lifetimes and some of us do not deserve the good things we are offered, but you ⎼ Marie Celine Wayland ⎼ you deserved the world. Too bad other obligations were cruelly placed upon your fragile shoulders. You shouldn't have had such a destiny; you were far too young to be taken away from this world. Therefore, I promise you this ⎼ when we meet again, I shall never let you escape my hands. I shall never let you leave my sight. I shall search for you in any world, until I find you. And when I do ⎼ I shall make you mine. Like I should have done the moment I first laid my eyes on you. ◢

⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼

PROLOGUE: PRECEDE



London, April 1878.



WILLIAM Herondale ruthlessly stabbed the demon, swiftly jerking back the dagger out of its body, hoping to avoid the revolting demonic liquid. Unfortunately for the obsidian⎼haired boy, he was much too slow. His weapon had been swallowed by the deformed creature. In no time, the demon vanished into thin air, leaving only a poodle of thick, black blood behind it.

"Jem!" Will yelled for his friend, turning around. "Where are you? Did you see that? Killed it with one blow! Not bad, eh?"

But the boy received no answer; his parabatai that had always been near him in battle, watching his back and making sure nothing happened to him, was nowhere to be seen. William was left alone in the darkness of an empty street, shadows being his only friends.

At first, Will's face bore signs of annoyance ⎼ there wasn't a thing he enjoyed more in the world than showing off his inimitable fighting skills. However, that wasn't particularly exciting when there was no one to watch him.

The Shadowhunter's eyes slid from one corner of the street to the other; it had been dark and narrow and if he dared observe the far distance, he could spot a glance of the river Thames.

But Will paid no attention to the unique sights of London, not when Jem wasn't around him. His absence brought uneasiness to Will since the last time he let one of his friends out of his sight ⎼ they went missing.

Marie Celine Wayland.

Will gently scrubbed his face with the sleeve of his coat, fully aware that Charlotte would scowl him for doing so. But the woman wasn't around and neither was Jem.

His skinny fingers touched small cuts on his face. There was no doubt in his mind that they were a postponed effect of the demon's poisonous blood. The boy even noticed a deep cut on his hand. He had wanted to draw a healing rune, but his attention was diverted by an unrecognizable shape in the shadows.

He stared at the shapeless oblique, assuming that it belonged to a mundane. It had been far to big to belong to Jem.

William wanted to grab him, scare him just so he could humor himself a little ⎼ but decided against it. He could almost completely imagine Marie and Jem giving him a threatening look. They were far too careful and good for their own good. Never once had they abused their superiority over the mundanes; their only mission was to protect them.

Will stood still, watching as the mundane mumbled a few colorful words under his breath and left. Once the boy was entirely sure that the man was out of the shouting distance, he yelled: "James Carstairs! Jem! Where are you, disloyal bastard?"

"Shut up and follow the Witchlight." a voice faintly replied.

From the moment Will recognized Jem's voice, he searched for the direction the light was coming from.

"Over here. Follow the Witchlight."

Immediately moving toward the dark alley and in between two old warehouses, Will grunted. "Did you hear me before? That Shax demon thought it could get me with its bloody great pincers, but I cornered it in an alley⎼"

"Yes, I heard you," a young man who appeared to be as pale as the first winter snow.

The boy wasn't wearing a hat ⎼ and if there were to be anyone else in the alley with the two of them, their eyes would be glued to his hair. It was a mess of silver curls, unique and bathed in the moonlight. His eyes were matching his hair color and his face possessed very sharp lines, making it hard to recognize curves of his eyes that gave away the signs of his heritage.

As Will looked closer and more careful, he began to notice dark red stains on his shirt and his blood⎼covered hands.

"What happened? You're bleeding," William froze, becoming a victim of panic.

"It's not mine," Jem responded, trying to ignore the concern that was laced in his friend's voice. "It's hers."

Following the direction in which Jem had nodded, Will raised his thick eyebrows. "A mundane woman?"

"A girl. Probably about fourteen."

A loud curse slipped from William's lips. Jem gave him a disappointed glance and waited for him to be done.

"If we'd only happened along a little earlier," Will said finally. "That bloody demon⎼"

"That's the thing. I don't think this is the demon's work." Jem frowned. "Shax demons are parasites, brood parasites. It would have wanted to drag its victim back to its lair to lay eggs in her skin while she was still alive. But this girl ⎼ she was stabbed, repeatedly. And I don't think it was here, either. There simply isn't enough blood in the alley. I think she was attacked elsewhere, and she dragged herself here to die of her injuries."

"But the Shax demon⎼"

"I'm telling you, I don't think it was the Shax. I think the Shax was pursuing her ⎼ hunting her down for something, or someone else."

"Shaxes have a keen sense of scent," Will recollected the information he had read in one of many Shadowhunter books. "I've heard of warlocks using them to follow the tracks of the missing. And it did seem to be moving with an odd sort of purpose."

He looked past Jem, at the pitiful smallness of the crumpled shape in the alley. "You didn't find the weapon, did you?"

"Here," Jem moved his hand inside his jacket and drew a knife. It was wrapped in white cloth. "It's a sort of misericord, or hunting dagger. Look how thin the blade is."

Will gently took the weapon and observed it. The blade was thin, ending in a handle made of polished bone. The blade and hilt were stained with dried blood.

With a frown he wiped the flat of the knife across the rough fabric of his sleeve, scraping it clean until a symbol which was deeply burned into the blade became visible.

Two serpents, each biting the other's tail, forming a perfect circle.

"Ouroboros," Jem said, leaning in close to stare at the knife. "A double one. Now, what do you think that means?"

"The end of the world," said Will, still looking at the dagger, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, "and the beginning."

Jem stared at Will. "I understand the symbology, William. I meant, what do you think its presence on the dagger signifies?"

The wind that originated from the Thames played with William's hair, pushing the raven locks in his his eyes. "It's an alchemical symbol, not a warlock or Downworlder one. That usually means humans ⎼ the foolish mundane sort who think trafficking in magic is the ticket for gaining wealth and fame."

"The sort who usually end up a pile of bloody rags inside some pentagram," Jem sounded grim.

"The sort who like to lurk about the Downworld parts of our fair city," Will slipped the handkerchief he had been carrying in his hand into his jacket pocket. "Do you think Charlotte will let me handle the investigation?"

"Do you think you can be trusted in Downworld? The gambling hells, the dens of magical vice, the women of loose morals..." Jem counted all the places and people that his mind could possibly think of, just to prove his parabatai the point.

Will smiled the way Lucifer would, moments before he fell from Heaven. "Would tomorrow be too early to start looking, do you think?"

Jem sighed. "Do what you like, William. You always do."



London, May 1877.



THE heavy smell of damp air and dust filled the dark room. It felt humid inside, almost matching the familiar feeling before the thunderstorm. The temperature was lower than the time of the year suggested it to be, but the brunette girl that stood next to the aged, wooden desk barely felt it. She was used to the feeling of cold weather and soaking rain on her skin.

The girl was glaring at what seemed to be a paper map positioned in the center of the dark⎼walnut surface of the desk, her arms crossed over her small chest. She was biting her lips furiously, nervousness lacing her every action.

Though Marie didn't want to let panic consume her, she couldn't stop her mind from imagining thousand different outcomes of her first solo mission.

The brunette was fiddling with her silver angel Raziel necklace that was hung around her neck. It was a present she had gotten from her two best friends ⎼ Jem and Will. The two of them made her promise to never take the piece of jewelry off and she was set on keeping her given word.

She was ready for this. She was not going to allow fear guide her.

Hesitantly, she turned around and proceeded towards the exit of the London Institute, only stopping by the weapon room to arm herself ⎼ her favorite bow and arrows, steele and a dagger ⎼ just in case. One could never be too sure about how many demons he or she could end up fighting, no matter the provided information.

As soon as the cold air hit her in the face, Marie's eyes widened in shock. The particular action didn't happen because she was caught off guard by the rain that poured, but because she stumbled upon one and only ⎼ William Herondale.

Young boy allowed his midnight irises to connect with Marie's hazel ones. He had been surprised to find fear in them.

"Will?" She whispered completely dumbfounded by her friend who was staring back at her with a concerned look.

"Celine," He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, barely resisting the unquenchable urge to pull her in a tight embrace.

Celine.

Only William Herondale called Marie by her middle name, making it sound so perfect and unique when the name rolled off his tongue. It was because of him constantly calling her Celine that Marie learned how to accept her French roots and face the reality of her mother being dead.

"Are you sure you can go alone? I could talk to your father and ask him to allow me to accompany you on this task... Me and Jem, both."

"William," Marie chuckled as her hands fastened the bow over her shoulder. "You and me both know that is not possible. You know my father. He is a Consul, in a case you have forgotten. Imagine the look on his face when he lets your words sink in. How would he explain his own daughter's fears to all those that are obsessed with him? I would be presented as an utter disappointment to the Shadowhunter world and that is not something I wish for myself. Besides, I'm sure I can handle a few nasty demons."

Her words were woven in confidence and stubbornness; she wasn't going to be a disgrace to her family's honor. Not when this mission was not even supposed to be difficult ⎼ killing a few demons in Westminster and making sure no mundanes were endangered. It was relatively simple.

"I know you can," Will responded, trying to avoid her gaze, but somehow failing. "Just, be careful. Okay?"

Marie's lips formed a tiny smile before the girl reached out and hugged her friend. It was an urge she was not capable of resisting, for she carried this fragments of fear and uncertainty inside her. There was a voice in her head, reminding her that something might go wrong and Will was the only one who was capable of silencing it.

William wasted no time in wrapping his arms around the girl. The pair stayed in each other's embrace far too short for their liking, but one had to break the moment of comfort and ease and it was the male Shadowhunter.

"Goodbye, Mr. Herondale," Marie whispered before climbing down the concrete stairs.

The blue⎼eyed Shadowhunter was left in the rain with his eyes following the disappearing silhouette of a tall, brunette girl.



WAYLAND girl glanced around, praying to catch a glimpse of a demon or two. Her steady gaze stopped at the old warehouses near the famous London river; they seemed abandoned and unused. Recollecting the information she had been given by Charlotte Branwell, Marie came to a conclusion that she had found the location of the reported attacks.

With a few long strides, the girl dressed in black Shadowhunter gear pulled the door open. The warehouse had been dark and far too quiet for Marie's liking.

There was something wrong about it and Marie knew it. Her eyes took time in adjusting, leaving the girl surprised as to why wasn't she attacked already. Demons that they usually dealt with weren't necessarily characterized as smart beings.

"Come out if you dare," Marie mumbled into her chin as she retrieved her bow.

Her hand reached for an arrow just in time as the girl noticed a demon charging at her.

"There you are!" Marie reacted quickly, targeting the demon's chest. Rapidly, the metal tip of the arrow found its way deep into the creature's chest, sending the demon back to its dimension.

Another demon, uglier than the one which came before, raced towards the girl. It went for a punch, but Marie was cautious and fast in dodging the attack, finding just the right position to stab the demon with one of the daggers she put in her belt.

Another one followed, but just as his predecessors ⎼ he, too, was gone; its chest sliced.

Once Marie made sure her aggressors were nonexistent, she turned on her feet, observing her surroundings and making sure there weren't any more dangerous creatures lurking around. Upon being satisfied with the situation, Marie found her way out of the abandoned warehouse.

Once again, Marie was exposed to the cold, cutting wind. She took a deep breath after closing her eyes. She needed to clear her mind completely; the mission was a success and there was no reason for her fear.

Suddenly, a sound of a throat being cleared made Marie blink in bewilderment.

There was a man slouched against the grey wall of the warehouse. From what Marie could gather, he was tall and slender. He was wearing a sweeping black coat and a tall hat, its brim filled with collected rainwater. His eyes were bulky almost like frog's and his skin seemed harsh.

"Miss Wayland, such a pleasure to finally meet you," the man greeted. His voice reeked of heavy accent.

He knew her name. How could he know her name?

"How do you know me?" She tried to sound polite, but something about this man just put her off. She didn't want to be close to him. "More importantly, who are you?"

"Oh, oh, oh. So many questions coming from a young and educated lady as yourself," He said mysteriously. "Your father sent me. He said that you have to come with me."

Marie was aghast.

Her father would never do that. Ever. Josiah Wayland would not risk his dignity and reputation just so he could fetch his daughter for a chit⎼chat. And even if he truly wanted to speak with her, he would have sent a Shadowhunter and not a man who lacked runes on his skin.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir, " Marie responded, lacing her words in confidence.

"But you see, my dear, I am afraid that is not an option."

As soon as she heard that sentence leaving the man's lips, Marie felt a sharp pain spreading through the back of her skull, painting her world in black.


⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼

NOTE:

So, we are beginning this journey once more! I find re⎼reading and re⎼writing Silent Shadows so fun and so awkward at the same time. Without a doubt, I am proud of this story, considering that I was very young when I first started it. It was my first book and although many sentences were directly quoted, I enjoyed imagining this story and portraying Marie.

Also, as some of you know ⎼ English is not my first language. I found so many mistakes in my work that I literally laughed so hard when I read certain parts. I mean, I still make mistakes ⎼ that is why I'd like you guys to point out any mistake you see. I may have missed some, but please, do it kindly!

Prologue is pretty much the same, just changed some dialogue.

Thank you so much for supporting me on this journey, it means the world to me. Feel free to leave a comment. I'd love to see what you think!

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