Chapter 1: Marbas

Will's POV

I was sprawled in my favorite chair in the library, holding a copy of 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner' open in my lap, but not exactly reading it; I was watching Cecily struggle to reach her doll, which I had placed upon the highest shelf of the bookcase.

"Are you sure you don't need any help, cariad?" I asked mockingly.

"Shut up, Gwylim, I am perfectly capable of reaching that doll," she hissed.

I almost laughed. She was nine, and even though she was tall for a nine year old, just about five foot one, and the bookshelf was at least twice her size. It was funny to see her struggle, as she looked absolutely ridiculous.

"Llosgwch mewn twll," she mutters, and made another jump for it.

Go burn in a hole. How very direct. I ignore the comment, and go back to my reading. I clear my throat:

"An orphan's curse would drag to hell,

A spirit from on high,

But oh! How more horrible than that,

Is the curse from a dead man's eye,

Seven days, seven nights I saw that curse,

And yet I could not die."

I heard a laugh. It was Ella, my other sister. She was 14 and she was a good half-foot taller than me; she'd be able to get Cecily's doll down on the stool I used to hide it.

"Is our darling William suffering from an episode of depression?," she teases.

I scowl at her. "It's literature. Both of you are clouted clay-brained canker-blossoms."

"Have you been reading from a 1750's book of profanities, William? I doubt anyone's called another person a canker-blossom for a good fifty years," she remarks.

I scowl again because she was right; I had been reading from an insult book of the 1750's earlier in the day. I watch helplessly as Ella pulls father's desk chair right up to the bookcase, steps up onto it, and reaches Cecily's doll easily with her hand. She pulls it down, and hands it to Cecily, whom after one dirty look at me, runs out of the room.

Ella steps down. "You really shouldn't tease her so, Will."

I sigh, as Ella was most definitely going to lecture me for a half hour. "I know, I was only trying to be entertained, and admittedly, it's not the best idea to do that but I was desperate for fun."

Ella's eyes soften. It was raining, and we hadn't been able to go on our morning walk today, so both of us were going crazy in the house. "Alright, but bother me instead of her."

I smirk. "But dear sister, I love you too much to be of bother to you."

Ella laughs, and ruffles my hair. "You are a bother most of the time, William, but a clueless and kind-hearted one."

I sigh. "You know I love both of you, right?"

At that moment, mother and father walk into the room.

"Ella? Are you in here?"

"Yes, I'm by Will's chair."

Mother and father both emerge from behind a bookshelf. Father is tall with blonde hair and 'eyes that could melt the coldest heart.' I always wished I had father's eyes. Mother is shorter, and has long, inky black hair, and dark blue eyes. All three of us have inherited mother's coloring and delicate features, but father's strong set of the jaw, and his high cheekbones.

"Ella, darling, we're going into town to buy a few things for Mr. Hollinger's ball, do you want to come as well?" mother asks.

Ella's eyes flash towards me. "Can Will come?"

I instantly put on a horrified expression, though I am secretly pleased that Ella thought of me; she loved going into town. But then again… I always explored father's study and rooms whenever he was gone. It contained quite a few strange books, clothes, and possessions. "I already have a dress shirt. And it's not ripped."

Ella flashes me an exasperated look. "Then I suppose I shall stay at home as well. Will drives the servants mad and they cannot manage him."

Mother flashes us both a fond look. Father looks distracted. "Alright, then! We shall be back in a few hours!"

And with that, they leave the room.

Ella turns towards me. "I'm going to be in the room next door."

I frown. It was always locked, and father never let us in. It was where he kept his important books and documents, or so he said. "Since when were you allowed in there?"

She winks at me, and runs off.

I stood outside of father's room, and twisted the doorknob. Instead of the usual satisfying click, there is a thump. I scowl. The door was locked. I turn and face the hallway. What to do now?

And then it hits me. Father's desk in the library! He always keeps the keys in there. I had never really looked at it in detail, but I knew that he kept them in one of the left drawers, under the wooden paneling that snaked around the rim of the desk. It was strange, as the paneling was as tall as the drawer, and instead of putting in another drawer, the maker had decorated the space instead. And father had had the desk custom-made.

Before I know it, I've reached the library doors. I make my way towards father's desk, not bothering to check if anyone is in the room.

And there it stands, the mahogany desk. Apparently the wood was rare, but it looked the same as any other type, except slightly darker, not quite fitting in with the rest of the library's furniture, which was a warm shade of brown.

My hand grazes past the paneling and makes a slight bumping noise.

I frown. The noise sounded like the paneling was hollow. Could it be a secret drawer?

I am down on my knees in front of it. I pull at the paneling and it only shakes. I then pull out my pocketknife, which father had gifted me only a few months ago, on my 12th birthday. It fits easily in the cracks, and I pull, and… the paneling swings aside. In the hollow space lies a box.

I pull it out, and blow off the light dusting of dirt and lint. The box is decorated beautifully; pictures of people with knives slaying all sorts of creatures… it was like a Greek vase! My hands slide towards the lock that kept the box shut… it was unlocked! I quickly pull the clasp keeping the lids together away in a smooth, fluid motion…

And I'm lying on the floor, coughing. A steady cloud of smoke gushed out of the box, and started taking a shape…

I gasped. It was one of the creatures on the box: it has reptilian features with dark blue scales covering his hide, eyes that were the color of freshly spilled blood, and a barbed tail that seemed to have a stinger on it.

"You…" it hissed. Its voice was like a million nails scraping against slate.

I couldn't talk. My brain seemed to have lost the capability of speaking.

The library doors flung open, and Ella came rushing in, holding a glowing blade. No, no, no, this could not be happening. Ella couldn't kill a fly.

"Begone, evil creature!" she cried. "I banish you from this house!"

And then the demon laughed. It swung its tail, hitting Ella, and she was knocked over behind the desk, screaming. And then it turned to face me, smiling wickedly, displaying its' sharp, yellowed teeth.

"I curse you," it rasped. "Everyone who loves you will die." It pointed at Ella. "Starting with her."

And just as it had appeared, it dissolved into a thousand fragments and vanished, leaving only a toppled desk and an open box as any evidence it had ever been them.

Ella.

I'm running towards the overturned desk, shouting her name before I can even process what happened.

She's there, and she's alive. She pulls herself up onto her elbows, and looks at me with eyes as wide as saucers. When she notices the fear in my face, she climbs over and holds me, murmuring comforting words. I'm on my knees; when did I fall onto my knees?

"Gwylim, it's alright. The demon was lying. I'm all right! I only have a few bruises, I'm okay. You're okay. We're okay."

She holds me until I calm down significantly. She looks me up and down and ruffles my hair.

"What was that?" I whisper.

"A demon," she replies guiltily. "I've been reading the books in the forbidden section of the library. Apparently there's a whole dimension of them! And they're all different kinds! Imagine that!"

I shudder. "I'd rather not."

She then pulls my face towards her so that I'm looking directly into her eyes. "You mustn't tell father, or mother. We will have to tidy up his desk ourselves."

Which is how an hour later, I was lying in my bed, as Ella had made up an excuse about me having a cold, plotting ways to tell Cecily about what had transpired in the library, without me simply cowering. Everything was alright.

Wasn't it?

A/N: So, my last story was the ball when Will was 12, when he read from Tatiana's diary, and you guys clearly liked that, so I decided to make a full back story for Will with the few details that Cassandra Clare gave us. It's going to be maybe 5 chapters, and I'll update ASAP. Please give feedback!

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine; they're all Cassie's!