Please Review! and be nice its one of my first stories ;)

Chapter 1

He lay on a bed of pine needles in a remote forest. Alabaster white body gleaming naked in the moonlight filtering through the canopy, straight black hair slicked to his forehead. He came around slowly. A twitch of the fingers, a moan. His eyes snapped open, a glint of silver, his body following suit as he blurred into motion,. Inhumanly fast he crouched on the needles, glaring into the forest waiting for an ambush. He sniffed the air, tasting blood on his tongue. His heightened senses honing in on every little sound. He stood there listening to the forest.

Several hours later, sometime near dawn his eyes slammed shut under a wave of pain. His humanity burning its way into his system. Crumpling to the ground he grasped his head in agony, barely stifling his cries. Eventually his cries turned into sobs and he began to weep, huddled in a ball on the bare earth.

After awhile his sobs ceased and he slowly sat up. He stared at the only article of clothing he was wearing, a paper bracelet on his right wrist. On it was a name and a bar code. He slowly rose from the ground and not knowing where he was or where he was going he took off in a dead sprint, darting between trees with the grace and speed of a god. He ran on tirelessly until the sun was high in the sky. He came upon a small town bustling with midday activity. Aware of his nudity he slunk into the shadows to wait. He sat in the high branches of an oak tree, a statue.

With the sun set he ghosted through the small town, taking to the building tops as much as the sidewalk. Finding the towns only clothing store he jumped to the roof before dropping in through a skylight. It was easy for him to make his way through the store, darkness being no challenge for his engineered eye-sight, the black and grey of night changing to a subtle purple. He made quick work of finding suitable clothing, tight dark jeans, navy v-neck and shoes . Instinct leading him to clothes that would be easy to move and in and easy to hid in. grabbing a sling back pack off the shelf he filled it with more clothes knowing that these would more then likely be wore out in no time. Having gotten all he needed from the store he darted over to the broken skylight and easy leaped out the window, a distance of more then two vertical meters.

He ran on the roof tops, leaping from building to building, house to house, backpack slung over his shoulder. Coming to the edge of town he ghosted down the highway.

As he ran he began to regain more of his memories. Most of which were darkness and intense, unbelievably excruciating pain. Other things he remembered was that the name on the wrist band, which he had discarded back at the clothing store was his, Ciar.

Without even the slightest burn of exertion he raced through the darkness, his newly acquired shoes touching the pavement infrequently, he was practically flying. A glimmer of a smile touched his lips as he relished in the freedom. For the entirety of his 16 year existence he had been confined to a small cellar in the basement of a stately manor. Kept in utter darkness.

The cars becoming more frequent on the highway as he neared the suburbs and outlying towns of Atlanta. It soon turned into a freeway, the road expanding to 8 lanes he was forced into the ditch, but he did not stop.

He came upon a thicket of wood and instead of side skirting he charged right in, leaping and weaving in and out of trees when suddenly an arm covered in tough black leather shot out in front of him. Without breaking stride he grasped the arm, twisting it over his shoulder and hurling it and its owner several feet in front of him as it crashed into several trees and landed with a solid thud at the base of a large oak. He sensed a second person, smaller then the first behind him. Flipping backwards into the air, he landed directly behind him. Seeing the machete sized glowing knife in his hand Ciar grabbed it from the boy before thrusting him forward hard enough that the stranger stumbled and fell onto the ground before somersaulting into a crouching position, evidently waiting for his comrade.

The knife in Ciar's hand glowed brilliantly bright, so bright that the entire ditch was illuminated. He to took his defensive position, crouching slightly, turning his body sideways so the knife in his right hand was pointed directly at his opponents.

They hesitated, seeing the knife glowing brightly in his hand, only a shadow hunter or someone with the angels blood in their body could do that.

Ciar took this time to size them up. Both were males and wearing black clothing that covered the majority of their bodies, one had dirty blonde hair and was slightly taller then the other who had black hair, though not as black as his own. They were both muscled up in the same sense that Ciar himself was. The two seemed to be silently conversing, Ciar waited.

The boys nodded to each other before coming out of their defensive positions.

"Who are you?" asked the blond boy, squinting into the light trying to see Ciars face.

Ciar remained silent, he wasn't sure what he should do.

"Are you a shadow hunter?"

It was evident that Ciar had no idea what a shadow hunter is.

"My name is Matt, and this is Mark,"

The dark haired boy nodded his head.

"I'm Ciar," his voice rough from disuse.

The three boys stood awkwardly staring at each other, not sure how to proceed.

Matt and Mark looked sideways at each other.

"Were not sure who you are, but judging by the way the angels blade reacts to your touch we want you to come to the institute with us." said Matt.

Ciar wasn't sure what the institute was and he wasn't sure if he trusted the two guys but he was feeling better by being in the company of other people, it had been so long since he had conversed with someone. He nodded his head and then gave Mark back his knife.

"Where?" Ciar asked looking from Matt to Mark

"Its close by, just follow us."

It was then that Ciar first smelled the demon. Both shadow hunters hadn't noticed anything yet, but soon there was a slight clicking sound coming from Matt that grew more rapid as the smell got stronger.

Matt whipped out a small black box decorated with swirling lines and symbols, it was making the clicking sound. "Demons, your going to need this." he said tossing Ciar an angel blade.

Ciar gripped the blade and it glowed a soft white light. Mark eyed the blade curiously, "have you named it?"

Ciar looked at him confused, and shook his head.

Mark look astonished and Matt looked impressed.

"It shines even without being named" said Matt with awe in his voice.

They were so consumed with the fact that the angels blade glowed without being named that they didn't realize just how close the demon had gotten. Ciar however, not knowing that it was impressive had been tracking the source of the smell as it got steadily stronger. It entered his line of sight to the left of the hunters. It was a foul thing that matched the smell of rotten eggs and garbage that it brought with it. The thing looked like an over grown scorpion, complete with a stinger and all. Although this stinger was a lot more lethal looking.

Ciars sword glowed more brightly in the presence of the demon and Ciar focused in on the demon with a single minded intensity. He whirled into action, like a cobra striking at its pray he lunged forward, parrying around Matt and Mark and heading straight for the beast. Moving so fast he was all but a blur the demon barely saw him coming, only having time to screech before Ciar had dispatched it, its head laying on the ground before it began to fold in on itself, disappearing back to its home dimension.

"What the fuck." said Matt as he and Mark stared at Ciar. "How did you do that?"

Ciar shook off the green blood that had clung to the blade.

"Do what?"

"You just killed a ravenor in under two seconds."

Mark grinned, "that was fucking awesome!"

Ciar stared back, unsure.

Matt still looked confused, "We had better get out of here before anymore of those things show up,"

Mark nodded his head in agreement. Ciar just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

Matt kept the sensor out as they left the wood and headed towards the institute.

Ciar still wasn't sure whether he should be going with them but simply being around them had given him an odd sense of fullness, something he hadn't had for a very long time, besides they hadn't given him a reason not to trust them.

Matt hadn't lied, the institute was close, only a few miles back the way Ciar had come and down a tree lined lane. It was one of the few institutes that wasn't actually located in the city that it was there to protect. No one was sure why this was but it was one of the oldest and most grandest institutes in the clave and so they had just left it where it was. To the normal eye the place would have looked like an dilapidated cottage being overrun by the swamp it was located by, but with the glamour removed, something that came naturally to Ciar, the place was an intimidating structure of stone and towers. The expansive grounds were all meticulously maintained, the swamp was now a clear lake, still as glass. The boys walked up the sweeping drive to a pair of large double doors with the traditional phrase of Sed Lex Dura Lex burned into the wood.

Ciar was led inside, the entrance hall was huge with a soaring gothic ceiling, and flag stone floor. Off to the left was the entrance to the chapel, to the right was a hallway that disappeared into the gloom and directly in front of them was an old fashioned elevator. It was there that they headed, the elevator clanging loudly as it descended to greet them.

On the second floor the corridor he was greeted by an a bearded man dressed in the same attire as the Matt and Mark. He was almost as intimidating as the building itself. He was well over 6 feet tall with a large chest and matching arms. His hair, beard and eyes were dark brown and he was scowling down at Ciar. It was clear that the man was Matt and Marks father.

"Who is this?" he questioned accusingly at the boys. Mark looked at Matt willing him to explain.

"Father this is Ciar, we brought him here because it was pretty obvious he has shadow hunter in him."

The man looked at Ciar, sizing him up before turning back to Matt, "and just what makes you think this?" his deep voice bouncing back off the stone walls.

"Give him a seraph blade and you'll see"

There was an awkward pause,

"Well give him a blade!" said the man gesturing towards Ciar.

Ciar was offended that they were talking about him like he wasn't there. When handed the blade from Mark he gripped its handle the same as before, the blade glowing gently.

he stared at the blade, hiding his surprise and amazement. He snatched the seraph back, Ciar relinquishing it without protest. "My name is Christopher Lightwood, I am the head of this institute. What are you?" he growled

Ciar wasn't sure how to answer. He himself didn't even know what he was.

'I don't know."

There was another short pause as the man mulled it over. He began to slowly circle Ciar, taking stock of him, obviously trying to gain some glimmer of understanding into what he was. He noted at Ciars pale pallor, "Are you faerie?"

"I don't know."

"Are you a night child?"

"I don't know". The man stopped his circling, scowling at Ciar. "A warlock perhaps?"

"I don't know"

Matt and Mark looked scandalized that someone was speaking to this man the way Ciar was. The man did not look impressed either.

"I must contact the Clave." the man nodded over Ciars shoulder.

Ciar heard one of the brothers disappear down the corridor while the other shifted his footing. He kept his eyes on the man in front of him, not liking where this was going.

"We can do this two ways. The easy, or the hard. Make your choice." The man pulled out his own blade. Ciar frowned at it and looked up.

"I haven't done anything wrong, on the contrary I saved your sons life. I don't see why there should be any problem."

The man looked slightly taken aback at such a long statement from the boy but quickly recovered before saying,

"You are unknown and so precautions must be taken." Christopher had not yet lowered his blade.

"So you treat all strangers that you meet with thi..". Ciar crumbled to the ground, landing face first on the hard stone floor. Matt leaped onto his back straddling him, while Christopher pulled out his stele and drew the ruin of binding on Ciars arms and his legs, a band of fiery red light encircling them. He then drew the ruin for unconsciousness on the back of his neck.

Christopher then grabbed Ciar by the arms, motioning Matt to grab his legs. They dragged him down the corridor and up three flights of stairs. Stopping outside a thick wooden door Christopher set Ciar down on the floor, not overly gently before unlocking the door with an old fashion bronze key. Picking Ciar back up they hauled him up the winding staircase. Placing him on the cot shoved in the corner they left, not before placing another ruin on the wooden door.