Hiya guys! ^^ To start off, this is my first fanfic. *thunderous applause* I had to repost it because I found quite a few serious flaws in the first attempt and I have OCD tendencies so I needed to fix them. Sorry. ^^; I'm kind of new to this, so I REALLY hope you enjoy the storyline as it progresses. It does contain an OC that I hope you find appealing and relatable, as well! I know this chapter is a bit rushed, so you can chastise me if you want. . I've just been so busy prepping for graduation in a two weeks and packing for my three day school trip which I leave for in two days that I tried to squeeze the length of two chapters kind of together. I apologize! Anyways, now I'm rambling, so I'll stop. As always, Rated T just in case. Happy reading!
~Cole
Paris, France: July 1462
"Miette! Vous avez cinq minutes! You have five minutes until it is time for your next treatment, darling." A wiry woman clad in a long, burgundy gown peered through the kitchen window of a small cottage, intently watching a circular clearing in the center of a grassy field. The woman pulled her wool shawl tightly around her shoulders and, with a curt nod, walked off into the dimly lit house.
The sun setting on the horizon sent lavishing rays to cast down upon the small clearing. In the center of the clearing sat a girl, no older than seven. She wore an indigo dress that extended beyond her ankles, concealing her dirty, bare feet. Small curls of dark hair escaped through a wool cap that sat atop her head. Her long eyelashes were hidden behind her small hands as she peeked through her fingers at a rag doll lying across from her in the dirt.
"Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, DIX! Ready or not, here I come!" The young child cried.
In one swift move, she crossed the clearing and kneeled down next to the old rag doll. Yet, before she had time to hold the doll closely to her chest, it was snatched up by a pair of grubby, calloused hands. Squinting in the bright sunlight, her eyes rested on a boy smirking down upon her, the small doll clutched tightly in one fist.
"Bonjour, Miette," The boy spat, earning whispered laughter from the children behind him. "See any more of your invisible friends lately? Freak."
"Bonsoir, Frederic," Miette spoke softly, nodding towards the doll in Frederic's hand. "I would be truly grateful if I were to have Henrietta back with me. I would also appreciate it if you were not to call me that word. I do not like it."
Frederic looked down at the rumpled doll in his palm and held it up towards Miette. "Henrietta is a stupid name for a stupid doll owned by a stupid girl. You may have it back on one condition: magie. We want to see your 'magic' again," He gestured to the kids surrounding him, who nodded in unison. "You're a freak show, Miette. You can do things normal people cannot do and you claim to see people. People who are invisible, oui? As an outcast, I wish to see just how abnormal you are. Maybe we shall all receive luck and you will catch the plague, ridding this world of your vile presence. Until that splendid day comes upon us, montrez-moi. Show me." Frederic kicked Miette in the shin, causing her to stumble over her lengthy dress and fall back into a puddle of mud.
"Bien, que ce n'était pas poli." A velvety voice purred behind Miette and she jumped to her feet, whirling around to face a man towering above them all. He wore the usual men's attire of France in extravagant colors, the sun casting shadows across his face. Miette stared at him in awe, shocked by the beautiful face that regarded her with curiousness. Miette did not break eye contact for quite some time, even when Frederic spoke up.
"We do speak English, sir."
The young man rested his gaze on Frederic, mild annoyance in the tone of his voice. "Indeed, I can tell. I prefer speaking French, such a beautiful language. What is your name, young man?"
"Frederic."
"It is a pleasure, Frederic." He held out his hand and Frederic shook it timidly, glancing towards Miette long enough for him to take notice.
"And yours, young lady?"
Miette wiped her muddy hands on her dress and pulled her wool cap securely around her head. "My name is Miette, sir. Miette Corone."
The corners of the man's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "What a lovely name, Miette. I believe those children weren't being very kind to you, yes?"
Miette noticed with a slight feeling of fear that Frederic and the other children had left her. Her heart thumped in her chest and she nodded timidly.
"And, your mother. I can tell she is not kind towards you, Miette. Will you please tell me why?" The man knelt down to Miette's eye level. She noticed, with great surprise, that his eyes were a luminous gold-green. She nodded and explained briefly what exactly was wrong.
"I see, my darling. Very tragic indeed." He scratched his head and looked at her sadly. "I, too, am different. I have magic as well, so I do understand your predicament, sweetheart. How would you like to travel with me? We can be different together." He grinned and clutched her grimy hands in his own hard palms. Feeling a sense of safety towards this man, Miette wrapped her thin arms around him and sobbed into his shirt. She nodded quickly, tears in the corners of her eyes, and spoke in a hoarse voice.
"There is nothing else I would rather do, sir."
"Go fish."
Jace sighed in exasperation and picked up another card from the pile, adjusting back into a sitting position on the floor. Magnus sat across from him, running a hand through his explosively spiky hair. Isabelle sat next to him, smirking, and held up a card between her manicured nails. "Got any fours?"
Out of frustration, Jace threw his cards at Isabelle and slammed his hands down on the floor. "Damn you, Isabelle!" He spread out across the length of the floor and stared up at the bright orange ceiling of Magnus's apartment.
"Thank you!" Isabelle purred and spread her last match out in front of her. "I win."
Alec clapped in respect for his sister from his perch on the multicolored couch in front of the television, earning an angry glare from the blonde.
"Don't encourage her, Alec. She's kicked my ass three times already."
Alec simply shrugged and returned to watching whatever was playing on Magnus's TV, which happened to be Lost Tapes. He snorted in disgust. "It's kind of revolting how mundanes find it funny to create their own monsters and pretend they are the real deal. They won't think it's as fun to watch when they run into a real werewolf."
Jace lifted his head to see his adoptive brother. "I tend to ignore mundie shows. Unless it's Project Runway or What Not to Wear. Some people just do not understand fashion." Alec shot a terrifying look from the couch and Jace grinned in satisfaction.
"Okay, boys, that's enough. I don't want to hear you start your pointless bantering and I'm sure Magnus doesn't as well." Isabelle picked at her fingernail in boredom and shot a look at her brothers.
Magnus, who had stayed quiet for most of the day, yawned and flopped on the lavender chair in which Chairman Meow was perched upon. The Chairman yowled and streaked into the nearby guestroom.
"That wasn't a very kind thing to do to your cat." Simon muttered from his spot in the corner.
Magnus yawned. "When has my cat ever been of a concern to you, Sawyer?"
"Never, really. I just thought you may not want your cat gouging your eyes out in revenge."
"Well, I think the Chairman appreciates the concern. I, however, do not. I can take care of myself perfectly well, Sandra."
Jace made a face. "Did you just call him Sandra-"Before Jace could reply, Clary's red head peeked around the corner. She glanced mischievously at Magnus before coming into full view, holding a picture frame bigger than her head.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I happened to notice a curious picture while lounging around your room, Magnus. Care to explain who this is?" Clary flipped the picture frame around, the photo of a young child visible behind layers of dirt. Using her sleeve, she rid the picture of dust and held it out for everyone to see. "Why do you have a picture of a girl in your apartment?"
Everyone in the room cast their eyes upon Magnus, who looked taken aback before snorting and stood up. He strode across the room towards Clary and snatched the picture frame from her delicate hands. "I love you dear, but you need to keep your nosy little self out of other people's things. You are in way over your head, Clary Fray. Now, everyone out. I have a five o'clock appointment with a very unhappy fey duo and I don't need Shadowhunters mooning around my apartment."
Magnus flicked his wrist and, with great surprise, the young Shadowhunters and their vampire buddy found themselves standing under the looming shadow of the Institute.