The hoarde of Shadowhunters and Downworlders bustled about in the Hall of Accords. Chatter echoed off the shimmering white walls as they stared at the newly created Alliance rune, a new creation of the Shadowhunters, supposedly a rune that won't hurt Downworlders and binds them with a partner. The partners share each other's strength and abilities.
Eric looked around warily. He wondered if the whole rune thing was a scam, except nobody seemed to be hurt as they let their Shadowhunter partners draw runes on their hands or wrists. Eric, a red-haired warlock, had no partner yet. His yellow, foxlike eyes surveyed the black-clad warriors for one that didn't have a partner, that he liked the look of, but there were none.
Now, there was something odd and unique about Eric, just like there is with every warlock. It might've been one of the reasons why nobody would approach him, but he didn't know. Eric had the ears of a red fox, twitching back and forth and covered in fur, tipped with black. A bushy tail came through a hole cut in his ripped jeans, half of it splashed with white, making it look like he'd dipped it in white paint. His nails and teeth were oddly pointed, like claws and teeth, and from a distance you might mistake him for a werewolf.
The warlock scanned the mass of people, a seething sea of black and other colours, rippling fur and horns, and glowing steles. He spotted a warlock he knew, Magnus Bane, and was about to approach him when the crowds parted slightly and Eric spotted a Shadowhunter, drawing the rune on his hand. He decided not to disrupt them, and as he watched, he was glad he hadn't…
The dark-brown haired Shadowhunter was kissing Magnus, and the warlock had a look of astonishment on his face. The surrounding people and creatures had stopped, staring and whispering, and Eric turned away.
Blue sparks crackled in his palms. He liked the hot feeling of magic and power that tingled at the tips of his clawed fingers. The red-haired warlock milled about, aimlessly, until he spotted a Shadowhunter looking lonely. She was rather pretty, with long light brown hair and sparkling hazel eyes. She held a stele in her right hand, slightly raised, like she'd been drawing on someone when they'd left her. Eric strolled casually up to her.
"Hey cutie," he said smoothly. She looked up at him in surprise, her wide hazel eyes taking in all of his fox like traits. "Got a partner?"
The girl gave him a slightly annoyed look. She'd probably got a lot of requests - as most alone Shadowhunters would get. "Yeah, actually, I do," there was a hint of boredom in her voice.
"Shame." Eric said, his expression still the same. He shrugged, spun on his heel and walked back into the empty spot he'd been in a few minutes ago. He'd just go into battle without a partner, the warlock decided. It wasn't like he needed any Shadowhunter abilities. They needed his magic more than he needed their strength and whatever.
Meanwhile, a shy werewolf girl called Lori was stumbling about, trying to find a partner. Flashes of light, from steles and seraph blades, danced before her eyes like gleams of silver. A sliver of sunlight beamed down on her from a crack in the roof. Luke was fighting alongside Valentine's wife, Jocelyn Fairchild. Lori wanted to fight alongside her daughter, but the girl was too young to fight. She spotted an ominous and sly looking warlock between the crowds, who was staring right at her with yellow fox eyes. His red ears were forward, alert. Lori turned away, seeing everyone around her with a partner. She made her way to the edge of the hall, pushing and shoving, and sat down on the steps.
A few minutes later, she was joined by a Shadowhunter, dressed in all black. A curving wooden bow was slung over his shoulder, a quiver of arrows over the other, and a stele was tucked into his belt. He had white-blonde hair and sharp green eyes, and he looked at her hopefully, his eyes glimmering in the sunlight.
Lori smiled at him, and offered her hand.
"You're a werewolf?" he guessed, taking her hand, raising the stele.
Lori nodded. She watched as he traced the rune on her hand. When he was finished, she felt a surge of energy course through her veins. She beamed at the boy, nodding her head in thanks. He grinned, then helped her stand up.
"Stick together," he told her.
Many other Shadowhunters had found Downworlder partners and drawn the Alliance rune on their hands. A handful still were looking, but there were more than enough Downworlders. They readied themselves, waiting for Magnus Bane to open the portal to Brocelind Plain.
The sun had set, darkness was settling over Idris. They opened the portal, and Shadowhunters and Downworlders surged through like a tidal wave, shouting and yelling war cries. They waved their weapons, werewolves transformed to their wolf form, warlocks weaving blue sparks that flew through the air like fire. Brocelind plain was dark and the mass of people trampled the muddy grass, staring up at the starry sky - which was clogged with demons. Cackling, crying and jeering demons, a sea of different beings. They launched themselves at the army with pleasure, laughing as they tore and bit into bodies, screaming as they were attacked and hurt. Venom from a Kuri demon splattered over the coat of a wolf, causing it to crumple to the ground. A Shadowhunter slipped and slid down a damp riverbank, kicking a demon in the face as they did.
The Night Children joined only minutes after the battle had began, tearing ferociously at the demons, clawing at their flesh desperately. Gleaming fangs caught the light, saliva dripping from their mouths.
Shadowhunters with the strength of werewolves ripped demons apart and slashed at them with seraph blades. Arrows flew through the air in volleys, attacking the larger demons, the ones that loomed over the battle dangerously.
The demons just kept coming. Every wave that was defeated was replaced by two more waves. Lori and her partner, Lewis, attacked back to back. Lori's teeth buried deep in the flesh of a Raum demon as she viciously sliced at it with her claws. Lewis shot each demon that came at him with an arrow, and each shaft buried deep in it's target.
The warlock, Eric, created a wall of fire around a small group of injured Shadowhunters and burned the demons alive. Their rasping, tortured screams carried over the plain.
It was chaos.
The hectic cries turned into shocked gasps as all of a sudden, the demons stopped coming. Some of them seemed to disappear right into thin air, on the spot, the winged ones soaring into the sky and away in the night. They stopped attacking and tried to retreat, only to be met by another wave of determined fighters. Bodies littered the bloodstained ground, scarlet liquid running in rivers.
The Battle of Brocelind Plain was over.