Chapter 1

Present day, Idris

Three years, three long years since my father died and yet I'm still stuck with a bunch of head strong idiots who know nothing of warfare. I swear to the gods that half these people wouldn't even survive two minutes in an actual battle. It'd be a bloodbath! Well it is a bloodbath. Nephilim are dropping like flies with every attack. Our situation is far from ideal and yet here we are discussing a load of rubbish. Like this for example. "Shadowhunters don't fight shadowhunters." Quite clearly they do my dear fellow, I mentally sighed. This is hopeless! Being the third war amongst our own in three years, you would have thought they'd have gotten over this by now. "It is blasphemy."

"It is blasphemy," Jia agreed. "Blasphemy is Sebastian Morgenstern's creed-"

"Blasphemy?" I arched a brow, finally having enough. "Blasphemy or not it is happening and blasphemy or not it does not matter. People are dying consul. Actually losing their lives because we have no proper strategy to protect them. Instead of discussing blasphemy surely we should be discussing an actual plan, not wasting our time getting our heads around religious sacrilege."

"I can assure you that we're doing all we can Winterflood." Penthallow stated, sneering at me.

"Ayla is right though consul." Nasreen agreed, nodding in my direction. I sent her a thankful smile, grateful that she stood up for me however subtly. "People are dying and here we sit in Idris doing nothing. We need to act and we need to act soon. Are we looking into changing the endarkened back? If he was able to turn Nephilim into monsters, we ought to be able to find a way back." She stated, thinking of her brother. Pity 'ought to' doesn't always translate to being able to…I mused softly. Despite myself I couldn't help but admire the genius of Morgenstern's plan. It was genius. Pure genius. That was the problem. Not only did this rid him of major threats, but it caused widespread panic as our kind scrambled to make sense of it. Every attack that he makes, only serves to make him stronger and us weaker. The longer we wait, the lower our chances of survival become.

"We are trying to find a cure, the silent brothers are examining an endarkened found injured at the Berlin site right now." Lightwood protested. It was as if he thought that what the clave was doing was enough. It wasn't. Clearly it wasn't. All the clave has done is call for an evacuation, and all that did was to create one large target for Morgenstern to strike. It's incredibly concerning actually given that they haven't actually added extra security around the boarders. Surely they realised that the endarkened could penetrate the wards here!

"What was his name?" Another asked. "He must have had a name before he was turned."

"Amalric Kriegsmesser," Lightwood said after a moment's hesitation, still answering the young women despite his reluctance. "His family has already been told."

The warlocks of the Spiral Labyrinth are also working on a cure. The whispered omnidirectional voice of a silent brother echoed in the room. Ayla recognised Brother Zachariah standing with his hands folded near the dais. Beside him was Helen Blackthorn, dressed in white mourning clothes, looking anxious.

"They're warlocks," Said someone else in a dismissive tone. I gaped. What was that supposed to mean? I thought we'd managed to move past the racism. "Surely they won't do better than our own silent brothers." I glanced around to see no open looks of disgust. Was anyone actually listening to this chap?

"Can't Kreigsmesser be interrogated?" Interrupted a tall woman with white hair. "Perhaps he knows Sebastian's next move or even a manner of curing his condition-"

Almalric Kriegsmesser is barely conscious, and besides, he is a servant of the infernal cup, said brother Zachariah. The infernal cup controls him completely. He has no will of his own and therefore no will to break. No will to break. What a strange turn of phrase...

"Is it true that Sebastian Morgenstern is invulnerable now? That he can't be killed?" Invulnerable does not mean immortal sir and vice versa. Anything under heaven can be killed; you just need to find their Achilles heel. If he's invulnerable to weapons then it must be through magic, magic that can be severed. We don't need to panic.

Murmuring broke out again. Penthallow had to raise her voice again to gain their attention causing me to wince at her rookie mistake. Wrong move consul. A leader can't afford to show her weakness under normal circumstances, for one to show it in war consul it was as good as surrender. Realisation struck me causing me to pale. We don't even stand a chance do we? "As I said, there were no Nephilim survivors from the first of the attacks. But the last attack was on the institute in Los Angeles, and six survived. Six children." I focused on her words… tuning out the rest. "Helen Blackthorn…." She couldn't be serious. Surely they couldn't sink so low as to do-

No. Please no! They can't be s-like little ducklings, one by one, the Blackthorn children followed the Blackthorn girl. My heart went out to them even before I glanced at their expressions at their expressions. Bewildered and terrified, all except Helen. Rightfully so, hers was alight with fury and grief, while the rest of the counsel sat stoic. She knew. All I had to do was look at her expression to know the heinous crime the clave were about commit. They were children who'd just been through hell and they were about to do this?

"Julian Blackthorn, step forward please." Her courtesy made me sick. The ease in which she did this left me horrified, questioning my choice all those years ago. He swallowed, handing a little boy he'd been holding to his older sister. Scouring the space for another, his eyes darted around the dais. Just as he'd begun to slump when another figure darted out onto the stage. A girl, head bowed, hair tangled rushed to stand beside Helen, and with her presence Julian seemed to relax, his terrified expression easing slightly.

"Julian would you do something for us? Would you take up the mortal sword?" Penthallow asked in a gentle voice.

"You cannot be serious." I hissed, raising my voice. "Are you insinuating a child, a boy of twelve, would have any reason to lie about this?"

"It is tradition Miss Winterflood, do you really want to question-" Jia narrowed her eyes darkly towards mine, before I cut her off.

"Tradition?" I gaped. "Tradition states that blade is only to be used in a trial. To call this a trial is insinuating that you are blaming him for the murders rather than Morgenstern. If our people have sunk so low as to torture a child for a crime he clearly did not commit what makes us better than Morgenstern?" I asked softly.

"This is not a concept you grasp Winterflood. It is clear from your father-" Jia argued.

"Is that so?" I laughed. "I grasp the concept with perfect clarity consul, clarity you clearly lack if you believe this is right. Your argument is naught if you have to resort back to questioning my own upbringing in order to gain control. My upbringing holds no effect on the arguments I speak and for you to use it as a counter argument makes you look weak. Do you really want to bring up my father of all people now Penthallow? We can remind the clave here about your dalliances with him if you'd like." A small smile lit my lips.

"My dalliances here are irrelevant." She hissed.

"And as is my heritage consul." I retorted calmly. "Perhaps we should move back onto the matter at hand concerning the mortal sword. For it to be used in any circumstance the truth must be in in question so tell me this; what reason would children have to lie about this?"

"Fear of retribution." She retorted.

"Of that we should all be afraid Penthallow but if we have to torture a child to stand a chance at victory then we have already lost." I turned to Julian. "To win this war, we need to know what we're facing, and as terrible as that night was, are you willing to tell us all you can remember?" I asked softly.

"Yes." He said, eyes meeting mine.

"Winterflood-" Jia practically growled.

"What?" I asked innocently, hiding my smirk. Turning away from the consul, I addressed the boy seriously. "When did you realise you were under attack? What happened?"

"We saw a flash of light, like lightning. Katerina and Mark left us and went downstairs, telling us to stay in the training room." He winced. "We could hear the sounds of fighting. We split up-Emma went to get Drusilla and Octavian, and I went to the office to call the clave with Livia and Tiberius. We had to sneak past the main entrance to get there, and when we did, I saw him."

"Morgenstern?" I asked softly, already knowing the answer.

He nodded. "I knew he was a shadowhunter, but not. He was wearing a red cloak, covered in runes."

"Those runes…were they familiar to you?" I asked.

"No but there was something wrong with them." Demonic then…if he could create runes alike his sister only aligned to their kind, we need to be wary. "They made me feel sick even to look at them, not like the runes in the Grey Book. He pushed his hood back- he had white hair almost like yours, so I thought he was old at first." Eyes widening at his own words, he winced apologetically. "Not that you look old."

I chuckled. "Better than being called a child. For the record though I'm seventeen." I winked playfully, before turning to a more sombre tone. "Can you continue?"

"He was holding a sword, silver with a pattern of black stars on the blade and the handle. He took it out and he-" His breath skittered.

"Hush." I eased. "It's ok. You don't have to continue now if it is too painful. You can tell us later if necessary." Ignoring the outrage on Penthallow's face, my eyes focused on his face. It was torn in pain. Braver men have broken under less, for this boy to have managed to get this far showed his strength. He'll be a great warrior one day. "You've survived what many full grown men have not Julian. If you want to return later, I'm sure no one would judge you for it. You deserve to rest. Do this in your own time. Don't let anyone tell you differently." At my words a sense of determination lit his features, almost causing me to smile.

"It's ok, I can continue." He took a deep breath. "He held it to my father's throat; there were others with him, wearing red gear too. Some wore black cloaks, others wore gear only red. Not once had I seen red gear before. There was a woman holding a cup that looked like the mortal cup, she made my father drink out of it. He fell down and screamed. I could hear my brother screaming too."

"Which brother?" Robert Lightwood asked, almost causing me to sneer. As if interruptions would help!

"Does it matter?" I narrowed my eyes sharply. As if that was the detail that was important right now!

"Mark." He shifted, uneasy at Lightwood's interruption. "I saw them start to move into the entryway and mark turned around and shouted for us to run upstairs and get out. I fell on the top step, and when I look down, they were swarming all over him-" He gagged slightly. "And my father, he was standing up and his eyes were black too and he started-"

"Easy." I murmured, seeing his horrified expression. "My offer remains; if you want out I will fight every single man and woman in here who disagrees." I stated calmly.

"I stabbed Sebastian." The blond girl blurted. "I stabbed him and he pulled out the dagger and laughed. He told me it was a shame that I wouldn't live to tell the clave that Lilith had strengthened him all measure that perhaps only glorious could end his life. That it was a pity for us that we had no more favours to ask of heaven, and none of the puny instruments of war they forge in their adamant citadel could harm him now. How can we fight someone who can't die?" She demanded.

"If he was invulnerable, he wouldn't have needed such a large army in order to start his war. There is more than one way to win, and far more ways to bring revenge upon those who hurt you. Burying him six feet under the ground, locked in a coffin, might work." I smirked. "What do you think? I personally think it's better than death with far more recompense." She chuckled slightly.

"Don't be ridiculous Winterflood!" Lightwood scoffed. "We are not barbarians!"

"Are you sure about that Inquisitor? Were you not about to torture a twelve year old boy merely minutes ago?" I sneered.

"Because children exaggerate." He sneered. "Are you even sure she didn't simply miss the heart?"

"Emma doesn't miss." Julian narrowed his eyes, offence clear in his voice.

"I know where the heart is." Emma said, stepping back from Julian and casting a look of anger- more anger and hurt- at the consul and the inquisitor. Not towards me and for that part of me was thankful. "But I don't think you do." Her voice rose as she spun and ran off the dais, practically elbowing her way past Robert. A redheaded teenager ran, clattering up the wooden steps in pursuit of her. A woman with similar features to the teen shot me a dark look, unnerving me slightly. It wasn't the glare, I was far too used to them for them to bother me; it was the strange feeling of déjà vu. Something about her seemed eerily familiar, something I couldn't quite place. I felt like I knew her, not that I could remember from where.

"How dare you!" I spat, anger racing through me, slapping Robert. "Heart or no, you are too bloody scared to accept the truth! Heart or no, stabbing him in the chest, where major veins and arteries are located, should at the very least have caused severe injury which would have caused him to weaken visibly not matter how good an actor he is. The fact it did not, gives the same result! What right did you have to stand and insult her that way? Children are no fools, something that you as a father should realise."

"Don't you dare question my parenting skills Winterflood! You were the one to speak of burying someone alive which is enough to damage any child's psyche." He spat. "What do you know of having a father?"

"Struck a nerve then have I Inquisitor?" I sneered. "As for doing 'damage', Morgenstern's attack would have done worse and as would have your proposed course of action. Given that it actually made her chuckle, I'd say it had the correct effect. It reassured her, which is more than your blind panic has been doing." I retorted.

"You still have no right coming in here questioning both the consul and inquisitor." Lightwood spat.

"So I have a right to question one of you alone then?" I tilted my head.

"You know what I meant Winterflood. What right do you have to question your betters?" He hissed.

"My betters? Seriously? I might be far from a saint Lightwood, but the day my 'betters' are those who torture children, is a cold day in hell. I don't question my 'betters', I question the actions of sadists, clearly obsessed with power games. Are you telling me that your positions make you exempt from any form of moral code?" I sneered.

"You are simply a girl of nineteen!" He sneered. "You know nothing!"

"I know nothing? Is that so?" I laughed. "You're sending mixed messages Lightwood; first I'm a monster, now I'm a child? Get your story straight sir." I sneered.

"I didn't call you a monster." He protested.

"You implied it, we both know you did." I smirked calmly. "As for being a teenager, it was the teenage Valentine and his circle who lead his rebellion against the clave, just as it was the teenagers Clarissa and Jonathon who defeated him whilst the majority here were in deliberation on whether or not to fight and it is the teenage Jonathon Morgenstern who fights us now. Your old age makes you compliant and compliance makes you weak Lightwood."

"Oh really?" He sneered. "What does a weapon like you know of emotions and justice? Of moral code?"

"There you go again sir; making assumptions on things you know nothing about Lightwood. A weapon am I? If I'm a weapon why do I unnerve you so?" I smirked, causing him to step back sharply. "Weapons are neutral after all; it's the warrior that holds an allegiance not the blade, meaning a weapon alone is no threat. Any idiot knows that Inquisitor."

"Now whose avoiding questions Winterflood? Scared to answer?" He retorted.

"I may not be a paragon of virtue Lightwood but I was not the one who wanted to torture a twelve year old boy and nor was I the one who willingly joined the circle as a teen. Your actions today would have harmed an innocent victim eventually turning him and his family against the clave. Children remember sir but then you'd know all about that though wouldn't you? Injustice is fought with injustice Lightwood. I don't bloody care if you're the bloody king of Sian Inquisitor. It does not make you an exception to the rules. Your actions have consequences and if you're not careful your actions could set us up for yet another war in the future. That is of course if we even manage to survive this one under your leadership." My voice was soft, before I turned to leave the hall.

Three years ago, Alicante

A petite young teen smirked, keeping to the shadows as she chased her prey. Alicante. City of fools…she mused. Hearing the pulse of the music, her smirk turned into a grin. Here was where those with the sight dwelled, those who held a deep-rooted hatred for the Nephilim for reasons unknown to her. Never mind their reasoning, she shrugged. If they were foolish enough to follow her father in his damned crusade, they deserved all that was coming to them. Why they were in Alicante specifically was rather easy, not only was the town close to the shadowhunter citadel, but being a tourist town it was easy to mask your scent particularly when the idiots insisted on using glamours.

Cigarette smoke entered her lungs as she entered the club without so much as a double take from the guards. Despite her small frame, she was always mistaken for older than her age. It was the way she held herself she mused or quite possibly the fact she was so small she was easy to miss. Her red irises focused on her prey. There she stood, chuckling with a bloke near the bar.

A girl. Maybe sixteen…

Her age roughly.

Ayla Briggs.

Seraphina had chosen her, carefully and specifically. Chosen her the way one might choose an expensive and costume-tailored frock.

She strolled over to her taking her time and the girl's measure. She had seen the photographs, of course she had, but people always looked different in person. Ayla was small- the exact same height as Seraphina herself which was quite a feat for anyone older than ten, and with the same slender build. Her clothes looked like they would fit Sera perfectly. Her hair was dark-Seraphina had already dyed her own to match it. Her pale locks were too easy to spot and if her father had caught wind of a figure with white blond hair, he'd immediately investigate. It was also short too, she'd have to cut it after the kill. Even better in Sera's mind. Too close a likeness would have drawn her father's attention with equal vigour once she infiltrated the camp. Besides she'd always wanted to try out a pixie cut. Her vibrant green eye would be the problem, but one easily fixed with the use of contacts. She was laughing. Despite herself, Sera winced, her resolve weakening slightly.

No.

She had to do this. For her brother. She couldn't back out now, not when she was so close. She'd spent too long hiding, too long plotting, and witnessed too many innocents die for her to back out now. What was one life in the grand scheme of things? Besides the woman had chosen her path the second she wanted to become an acolyte of Sera's father. She was a murderer, wanted to slaughter hundreds of innocents. She might not deserve to die, but she deserved to die more than those she wanted to kill Sera decided. It was the only way.

Sera came up to the bar, leaning against it as calmly she could. Turning her head, she allowed the other girl to recognise she could she her. "Hello." She knew the girl was British born and bred, it was in her file. Another reason she'd picked her. Sera had never been good at accents. It was safer to go with her own regional one-less risk of being caught – and given that both girls had been raised in Northamptonshire, it was safe to assume that any slight dialect changes wouldn't be picked up on.

"Hello." Ayla replied, cautiously. Her eyes were narrowed, looking startled to have been addressed by this strange girl before her. Sera could almost see her thought process, the panic in her eyes as she scanned Sera's figure for runes.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Sera suggested, smiling.

Ayla's hand tightened around her drink. "I don't…"

Sera grinned wide, turning her right wrist to show the tree inked permanently there. Ayla breathed in relief, deepening the guilt forming in Sera's gut. Ayla's beam of delight made it worse. It was if the girl had found comradeship with her. "Are you here for the revolution meeting too?" She asked professionally, as if she was still in contact with her father.

"I am. I'm Ayla. Ayla Briggs by the way. It's wonderful to finally see a girl my own age if you know what I mean." She babbled mindlessly. Sera winced mentally; this girl really didn't know what she was in for did she? All filled with childish hope and naïve beliefs. She truly believed she was helping to save the world.

"I know exactly what you mean." She forced a grin. "Must be my lucky day."

One thing that Seraphina was certain of was that she'd have no problem answering to an assumed name. She'd never felt particularly attached to the name Seraphina, perhaps because it had been given to her by her monster of a father or perhaps because it had belonged to her perfect traitor of a great aunt too...she wasn't quite sure which reason was correct. Probably a mixture of both, she concluded. She'd always been compared to the woman, a woman she'd never known and she hated it. Apparently she'd been the greatest warrior of her time. An expectation her father always thrust upon her. What made the pressure worse was she secretly admired the woman, not for her battle skills but because of her courage. She'd had the courage to kill her own father, her own flesh and blood because it was the right thing to do.

If she lived up to any part of Seraphina's legacy, it was that she strived to do.

It was why she had to do this, to commit this terrible atrocity. It was in the hope that she could avenge them, avenge all who have died or will die because of her father's twisted desires. It was the only way. "Hey, I heard that there's a demon on the prowl in the street next to this one, and where there's demons there's shadowhunters. Want to go for it?" Ayla grinned.

"Sounds wonderful." Sera grinned weakly, chugging down the rest of her drink.

They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, like the sister warriors. The thought made Sera cringe. Siblings…if only Hade was alive. He'd know what to do. It was too easy: all she'd had to do was show up, and here was Ayla Briggs like a lamb pushing its throat on a blade. Who trusted other people like that? Wanted to be their friend so easily? Part of Sera cursed the girl's nativity. Perhaps if she wasn't this innocent it wouldn't be so hard.

"What's your family like?" Ayla asked. "Do they have the sight too?"

"Yes." Sera grimaced. "Not that they'd appreciate what I'm doing here." It was true, her father wouldn't approve of the fact that Sera wanted to assassinate him. As for her brothers, she'd never known Axel enough to know what he'd want and Hade…Hade now lay dead.

"They'll understand eventually." Ayla rubbed Sera's shoulder in sympathy. Don't touch me, Sera wanted to scream. She didn't of course. Couldn't. She couldn't afford to ruin this now. "When we succeed and the world is a better place for it, they'll be thanking us." Thanking us…Sera mused. Yes, after today we will be one and the same Ayla Briggs. I won't forget your sacrifice. I will wear your name to honour you even after the deed is done, and will make the world a better place in your name. In more ways than one…she internally winced.

Sera's father had never mentioned her mother, not once, though she knew she didn't share one with her brothers. Their mother had taken Axel when he was a baby, leaving Hade behind. Sera had never been able to forgive her for that. Not once. How could she have abandoned her own flesh and blood without a fight? Not that she blamed Axel. Hade had of course but Sera had never adopted that view. She did however hate the women, Jia Penthallow, with a passion.

It was clear the hatred was mutual.

"Behind you." Sera breathed in Ayla's ear. "A demon. I can hear the footsteps of her hunter." Swift as an eagle, Ayla swerved, eyes locked with the beast. "Let's give the hunter a little help shall we?" Sera grinned before letting out a piercing shriek.

Perfect. Sera grinned as the huntress appeared, aiming an arrow at the creature, not even flinching as the creature bubbled away. "Are you alight?" The girl panted, walking closer, before paling at the sight of Ayla's tattoo.

"Surprised?" Ayla grinned, unsheathing a blade from her boot.

"No…you're…" The shadowhunter stammered, panic weakening her muscles as she stepped back.

"Heard of our work have you?" Like a demon, Ayla smirked, lodging the blade into the huntress' shoulder with a well-aimed throw, pinning her to the wall. "Good. Then you'll know you won't survive the-"

Ayla looked so surprised when she died; Sera's expression just remained stoic even as Ayla's blood bubbled across her fingers. With a sharp tug, Sera unsheathed the blade from the dying girl, wiping the blood on her jeans, ignoring the thump of Ayla's body as it hit the floor. She blinked slightly. Her first kill and it had felt so easy. Like breathing. "Are you alright?" She directed the question to the hunter.

"You…you…" She stuttered. She was just a girl Sera noted, barely older than Sera herself. Stepping forward over the dead girl's body, she walked towards the wall the girl was pinned. Her hand clasped around the dagger, she pulled, wincing at the girl's groan.

"Are you alright?" Sera repeated.

"I'm fine." The hunter mumbled. "You saved me."

"I'm Ayla." Sera grinned. "Ayla Briggs and you are?"

"Sophia, Sophia Mooreland." The shadowhuntress smiled.

A.N. Hi! This is my first Mortal Instruments fic, I hope you'll enjoy it despite my bad grammar. I know my writing is far from perfect and there are bound to be a ton of errors embedded in it so all grammar Nazis reading this please be kind. Please review! I'd love to know your thoughts. :D