Prologue
September 20, 1896
A couple of things made that day stand out more than the others: it was my seventh birthday and my mother was brandishing a seraph blade. My mother's seraph blades were dangerous and could kill Downworlders, demons, and even mortals. I knew this because she used to let me sit in her lap while she polished the blades. She used to tell me about the different weapons and the history of them.
When I first came to live with Magnus, I thought about Mother a lot. I wondered if I did something that day to make her hate me. When I mentioned this to Magnus, he always answered with something like this, "You are a very special little girl, Isabella. Humans are often frightened by something that is different or greater than themselves." Magnus was a good friend of my father and was present at my birthday party.
Mother, Father, and I lived in a small stone cottage by the River Vartry in Wicklow County, Ireland. When I was born, Mother hired a live-in nanny for me since she was busy with her work as a Shadowhunter and Father was an advisor to the Seelie Queen. But on the eve of my birthday, the nanny fell sick with typhus and was sent away. My mother was now in charge of me.
I didn't even want a party. Even at seven, I shied away from people, preferring the company of books and music. The guests coming were my parents' friends and their children. The birthday party itself was very enjoyable. Magnus made lights appear out of thin air and made the lights turn into shapes. Mother narrowed her eyes at this but I thought it was just because she didn't like the noise. After the entertainment and present-opening, Father decided that it was time for cake. Mother disappeared into the kitchen, no doubt to supervise the cutting of the cake. After 15 minutes, I began to grow increasingly worried. Surely it doesn't take that long to cut a cake. With this thought in my mind, I headed to the kitchen while stroking my cat, Kirby.
On the middle of the counter sat a massive vanilla cake. Mother was standing with her back to me, supervising the maid as she cut the cake.
"Mother, the guests are getting restless," I stated, "Do you need help?"
"No, baby. Margaret is about to-" Mother turned around to face me and suddenly, her pale face got even paler.
"Are you okay, Mother?" I took a small step forward and held out Kirby, "Do you want to hold Kirby to make you feel better?"
"You are not my daughter! What have you done with my Isa," Mother exclaimed. In Mother's hazel eyes, I saw fear, anger, and disgust. Perhaps this is what made me take a step back from her. In a flash, Mother whipped out her seraph blade and spoke its name, Azriel. Azriel was Mother's sharpest, most dangerous blade. And now, Azriel was an inch from my heart. I should've have ran for safety or at least screamed, but I was frozen in place.
"Monster! Abomination of my flesh," Mother screamed and then she lunged for me. The force knocked the wind of out my chest. My head hit the wall and I heard a sharp, ringing in my ears. Mother raised the blade and brought it down. It tore through my dress and cut my stomach. I howled with pain as the blood splattered over my dress and shoes.
"Sibby! What are you doing," Father yelled, running into the kitchen. Father stood, horrified, in the kitchen's doorway. "Get off of Isa! She's our daughter not a demon."
"She's not our daughter! She's a demon spawn," Mother wailed at Father and raised the blade again. Father yanked Mother off of me and Mother struggled in his arms. "Spiorad olc! Ollphéist!" Magnus came running into the kitchen with Catarina Loss and Ragnor Fell.
"Isabella! Magnus take her! Isa-" Father yelled. I didn't hear the last of what Father said because everything went black.
When I woke up, I was in a large and comfortable bed. The butter yellow dress Mother had dressed me in for the party was replaced with a long, snow-white nightgown. Where was I? This certainly was not my room. My room had a baby grand piano, a window that overlooked the River Vartry, and dozens and dozens of books. This room held a bed, a wardrobe, and had little decorations. I got up out of bed, shivering, as my bare feet touched the cold floor. I walked over to the wardrobe in search of a mirror. I was curious about my cut and I knew that Mother had a large, rectangular shaped mirror in her closet. When I opened the wardrobe door, I screamed. On my back were small, white wings
Author's Note: I changed Bella's age from three to seven. I felt that the way I'm writing her POV's she comes more off as a genius. Her diction is too advanced even for a three year old genius.
Spiorad olc- Irish for evil spirit
Ollphéist- Irish for monster