This fanfiction is written by me but some of the characters, places and quotes are made by the beautiful and humorous Cassandra Clare of whom wrote the Mortal Instruments series, and Infernal Devices trilogy for us to enjoy, read and completely be sucked into the fandom.
This fanfiction takes place after City of Fallen Angels and City of Lost Souls. This text below is just the introduction, please, if you have read the book, feel free to skip this page/s. Also feel free to be critical and if you see a mistake (spelling mistake, mistake in grammar structure, mistake in a sentence that doesn't make sense) please contact me!
And make sure you read my other fanfictions when I upload them - and make sure you come back to this one as well as I will be updating it weekily.
Now, to the brilliant tale of J.C Morgenstern! Hope you enjoy!
I witness the pink of a sunrise. Such a human prospect to view – and be mesmerized each time you foresee such a thing – but I don't see it. All I see is a blinding ball of light that makes my vision observe multiple large black spots splotching in the tranquil mountains in front of me, ruining the peacefulness that will never be inside me – which just pissed me off. The mountains belonged to my home – though I am not like the people that live there – Idris. Between two mountains – where the one splotch of black was – was a huge impressive glass city. The glass windows glistened magically in the pinked sunlight of the setting sun behind the fluffed clouds. Some say, that if humans could see the sight of Idris over the force-field of the glamour, they would be blinded by beauty. I was blinded, yes, but not by how the mountains only shadowed the muddiest of streets and alleyways of Idris – that shouldn't really be seen anyways – but the display of this place, where all the people I hated lived in an easy reach and I just stood there, on a small and simple hill watching the humanist sight of a sheer and feeble sunset.
I enjoy the darkness and chill of a gloomy night, which makes you wonder of what is behind you, and what is hidden in every crack and shadowed corner that you haven't merely laid eyes on before. It never crossed your mind that something as innocent and plain as the scope of the night's sky would hold such nightmares, that hide in the most terrifying places. However, 'nightmares' isn't what I should call it… Though the creatures that live in these 'nightmares' are in reality in the night – in the darkness of the shadows of the unknown abyss. I must say, yes, I am a Shadowhunter – a warrior that beholds the trust and responsibility of keeping the human race safe; even though I don't think that they should be entrusted with our protection when they cannot simply see us with their mundane eyes to thank us. A Shadowhunter is the most powerful being in the world, controlling both the demonic world and the protection of the mundane world. A Shadowhunter is a half-angel, half-human – a great being with immense power. Never the less, I am not like them, and never will I be. I am different – more powerful than the greatest Shadowhunter that has lived, or faster than any demon that's swept the earth, or stronger than any sephe blade that burns the runes on our scarred skin. I must tell you this:
I am Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. But I don't mind if you call me Sebastian. I am half human, like every Shadowhunter that walks on this earth, but the other half of me is different – some have angel blood inside them – but I have something else. I have demon blood trembling through my veins like black and penetrating poison. That's what makes me so better than anyone else that calls himself strong or a Shadowhunter. I am faster, smarter, and stronger than anyone that crosses my path – and no one yet has been able to beat me in combat – but I am still… Somehow a Shadowhunter. Being half-demon has its advantages like that. Even then, there is more – demons are unsocial beings that only care for themselves and how their pray tastes – a demon doesn't think of anything else not even someone close to them (not even a brother, sister, or mother). They are selfish life forms that only enjoy watching you cower in the corner of your beloved childhood home, while you watch your father's red blood splat over the white carpet, staining it forever. As sick and twisted as it is, they enjoy torturing people. That's who they are. That's who I am. Being half-demon, I believe I cannot love, I can only hate – though that's what I was taught by my father, the brilliant Valentine Morgenstern.
My father has been through it all; the love, the life, the teenage drama, the break ups, the collage, the training, the rebellious times, and even betraying the clave. I guess I can say that, I am daddy's little man? Despite the fact that technically I am not Valentine and Jocelyn's first child – even though, yes, Jocelyn Fairchild did give birth to me and traditionally Valentine and his wife was expecting a son already but… Something happened had to me. Valentine, being the sweet sicko that he is, he injected the blood of the lovely Lilith into my bloodstream when Jocelyn was pregnant with the innocent half-angel me. So, wouldn't that make Lilith, my mother? I have the same blood as her, and I am one of a kind – none has been born the same. I am her son. I know I am. Yet Valentine tells me that I am a 'Morgenstern' and still calls me his son – Jonathan. I just ignore him – but somehow, after what he had done to me, he is the only one that has come close to me loving someone… Is that wrong? Someone so evil like I, loving only but his father, don't you think that's just a bit pathetic, huh? Well, I think so. Anyways, this is about more than Valentine and his band of misfits, the insurgents and outcasts – or complete idiots. It is not about Clarissa Morgenstern and Jace Herondale. It isn't about the clave or the glass city – or even the Shadowhunters.
This, this is about me. This is my tale to tell.
