Hey Guys!

So, before you start reading this fic, I recommend you go read 'A New Uprising', which I cowrote with supersassysnakeeatingbadger, simply because the events in this fic are based on the events that happened in A New Uprising. Also, since this takes place around seven years after the events of A New Uprising, supersassysnakeeatingbadger is writing some shorts, which they are posting on their account, so keep an eye out for them. They will be called; A New Uprising: TITLE, so that they are easy to find.

You will notice as well that the main OCs have Shadowhunter last names. This is just to add some more symbolism to the names, and does not link it to the Shadowhunter universe. Just me being a dork.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters/settings/events apart from the ones I have invented. They belong to Rick.

-1-

Celestia

Crap. I was going to be in so much trouble. I packed up my things as quickly as I could, my hands flying across the table to shepherd all my study materials towards me. Somehow, I had managed to spread them across the entire table. I sighed heavily. I was supposed to have been keeping an eye on the time while I was studying, but I had gotten distracted reading, again. Someone was going to realise I had snuck out last night. I was so screwed. I hurriedly shoved my pencils and paper into my satchel, swinging it onto my shoulder. It groaned in protest, the few stitches that were still holding it together stretching. It really wouldn't put up with much more strain, but I didn't have the heart to replace it. It may be old and worn, and the green colouring may have faded to almost grey, but we had been through quite a lot together. I slid out the side of the booth that I had sat in for the past couple of hours or so and walked quickly down the aisle between the other tables. I walked with my head down, and I was in such a rush that I didn't even stop to marvel at the intricate interior design of the library like I normally did. I was so caught up in my own thoughts of exactly how much trouble I would be in, that I completely collided with the boy browsing the bookshelves along the walkway.

"Oi," he grunted, spinning to face me.

It was Peter. The biggest asshole in town and, quite possibly, in the whole of the city of LA. It was a wonder that I hadn't noticed him while I was walking, considering his large frame took up most of the walkway. Ever since I had started living here, Peter had decided that I was an easy target, considering where I lived. I had very quickly proved him wrong.

"Well, who would have guessed you actually knew how to read?" I said contemptuously, moving as if to walk past him. Yeah right, the fool probably had something due tomorrow and was trying in vain to submit something vaguely legible. As per usual. Peter grabbed my arm.

"You better watch yourself, Lightwood," he snarled, his pudgy face crushed up in what I assumed was a scowl.

I looked pointedly at the hand holding me and then back at Peter's ruddy face. I raised my eyebrows.

"Do you remember what I said last time, Peter?" I patronized, shaking my head, "I hope so. I'll be mad if you've forgotten."

A pause ensued.

"Well, I'm going to give you the benefit of doubt, on account of your ignorance."

I stepped closer, resisting to the urge to gag at his stench. I'm not particularly tall, but I was tall enough to look him in the eye.

"I said," I continued, still in the same slow, patronizing manner, "That if you touch me again it wouldn't just be your wrist I break. Remember now?"

I smiled coldly, driving home my threat.

Peter's eye twitched and he scrunched his face up harder, but he let go of my arm. He backed up a step, his chubby arms held up in surrender.

"One day, someone will make you pay for that big mouth of yours, Lightwood," he smirked, turning back to the shelf.

I rolled my eyes, and dramatically brushed down my arms and clothes.

I started to continue on my way, but I stopped, feeling like I forgetting something. I twisted my earrings, trying to remember. Oh, of course! I doubled back to the reservation desk. Here I let my rough façade drop and smiled warmly at the old woman behind the desk.

"Was that boy over there giving you trouble, Celestia?" Glenda scowled, putting down her book and looking over the rims of her glasses, "Because if he was, I'll set Bill on him."

I gave a small snort of laughter as I imagined old Bill chasing Peter around town.

"I'm serious," Glenda said, poking me in her shoulder, "If he is causing trouble, he's out of here."

I shook my head, a rare smile twitching at the corner of my mouth. Even though it would be extremely satisfying.

"I assume you're here to see if any of your reservations have come in?" Glenda asked me over her shoulder as she turned to the shelf behind her. "There's nothing here for you yet, but that Cassandra Clare book you've been waiting for should be in tomorrow."

My heart soared. I had been on the waiting list for this book for months. Glenda glanced at the clock on the far wall and frowned.

"Shouldn't you be going, Celestia?" she asked, pointing at the clock.

Right.

I spun back to the door, shouting a hurried goodbye to Glenda. I was going to be late.

...

Turning one last corner, I came to a stop in front of the wrought iron gates that led to the hell house I called 'home'. I slowed my pace to a casual jog, catching my breath. The small garden full of ivory and thorny red roses was deserted, the dirty, thin windows of the house lit up by the lanterns inside. My worst suspicions confirmed; I was late. I sighed heavily, pushing the gates open with care. Despite my caution, their hinges creaked hideously, echoing off the stone walls. So much for a stealth entrance. I crept along the pathway to the large oak door, keeping my ears tuned into the sounds of the house. The clattering of dishes in the kitchen as the other girls prepared or, more likely at this hour cleaned up, breakfast. The hard thumps of someone rushing up the stairs to their room. I reached the door and stretched my arm out to knock, tensing myself. Before my hand could so much as graze the chipped red paint of the door it was yanked open from the inside. Ms Ives bloated form filled the door.

"And where," she breathed, "Were you?"

I started to explain but Ms Ives grabbed my arm close to my shoulder, practically dragging me through the entrance hall and into the kitchen. My knapsack slipped off my shoulder and fell to the ground, spilling its contents. For a fat old lady, she had some strength.

"This is the last straw, Celestia," she chided, using my name like a curse, "You know the rules. You have already broken curfew five times." She paused squinting her bloodshot eyes at me.

"That is," she continued, squeezing my arm hard enough for it to hurt a bit, "Not counting the number of times I am sure you have snuck out without us noticing."

I swallowed drily.

"Please…" I tried, but Ms Ives cut me off with a knobbly finger.

"Now, Celestia," she rebuked, "It is a proper establishment that I run here. You must understand that bad behaviour must be punished."

Gods did I know.

"I think," Ms Ives continued smiling horribly, "That an increase in rent would be a more than fair retribution, don't you?"

Hell no. But I didn't say anything. As much as I hated it here, and I really hated it, Ms Ives was all I had. Ms Ives nodded.

"Double what you are currently paying for housing and food," she concluded, turning her back to me, "Paid weekly."

I swayed on my feet, doing the calculations in my head. I couldn't afford that. I was hardly scraping in enough coin to pay as it was, and that was paying fortnightly.

"Also."

Oh, bloody hell, what else? I heard the jangling of coins. I turned back to the table. A handful of coins glittered on its newly polished surface. Just enough to get me to my next payment. And she knew it. Ms Ives smiled cruelly.

"It seems I have missed breakfast," she remarked, "Would you be a dear and go down to the bakery and get me some pastries?"

I raised my chin. Fine. I'd play Ms Ives little game.

"Of course Ms Ives, and what pastries in particular would you like?" I asked politely against all my bodily instincts.

I pocketed the coins.

"Whatever you think I would enjoy," Ms Ives replied, waving her hand in dismissal.

I started gathering my study materials from where they had spilt on the floor.

"What are you doing?"

I stopped, and glanced up at her.

"I said get my pastries, not dawdle around, off with you."

I took a deep breath and turned back to the kitchen, glaring at Ms Ives.

Say something.

Don't.

A war raged in my mind. But I couldn't. I couldn't risk it. So, with another deep breath I turned around, rotated the handle, opened the door and was gone.

...

My stomach rumbled in protest as I joined the morning line at the bakery. The pastries smelled absolutely amazing. I waited, inhaling the fresh bread fumes, until I reached my spot at the front of the line and placed my order. Thanking the young man behind the counter, I started heading back, guarded stares following my footsteps. Most people in this town knew me or at least knew of me; weird name, even weirder girl. Even if they didn't, they recognised my clothes. They were simple and plain; a pair of dirty, wheat-coloured trousers that were stained from all the yard and house work I was forced to do and a lack of bleach. They didn't fit around my frame, which I knew was way too slim for a fifteen-year-old. My dark grey shirt was just as dirty and torn, hanging loosely off my shoulders. My dark blonde hair was just one big knot and although no grime stained my face, I know I looked dirty. I walked with my head down, trying to ignore my stomach's growling, hardly paying attention, when someone caught my eye. There was a girl waiting in the line, dressed in the same worn outfit that I was. But I had never seen this girl before. I squinted. There was something...off…about her. I sat down on one of the small tables around the courtyard to take a better look. Maybe it was nothing, but my instincts rarely let me down. I focused on the girl, peeling back any layers of Mist that might conceal anything weird from the mortals. I nearly fell out of my chair.

"Oh Gods," I muttered, regaining my seat.

The pretty disguise was gone. In its place stood a pale woman with glowing red eyes and fangs. Gods, her fangs were huge, like a mutant wolves. And her head was on fire. I looked down to the things legs. Like I'd assumed, one was a shiny prosthetic bronze leg, and the other a donkey's.

It was an empousa.

I knew a little about empousai from my research, but not much. They were daughters of Hecate and a spirit called Mormo. They would seduce men and feed on their blood while they slept, like a modern-day vampire. They were fast and their claws were extremely sharp, sharp enough to even cut through bone in the right circumstances. I evaluated the situation. Either, I confronted the empousa here and risked a mortal getting in the way or I got it's attention and drew it away to somewhere isolated where I could kill it. But first, I had to get my swords from where they were hidden in my room. I rose from the chair, making sure to watch the empousa for any hostile movements. I glanced around the courtyard, looking for a safe path out. I turned back, but the empousa was gone. I swore and rotated again, trying to spot her in the gathering crowd.

"Looking for me?" taunted a voice from behind me.

Well, that answered that question. I turned again, facing the empousa.

"Demigod," it snarled.

"Donkey," I retorted.

I turned on my heel and ran, the empousa's outraged shriek following me.

...

Within five minutes I was absolutely sick of running. I wasn't wearing my sneakers so my feet were starting to get sore and I was already pretty short of breath. But, the empousa clearly wasn't giving up and I could see out of the corner of my eye its shadow, and another, were darting in and out of the buildings behind me.

Great. I'd made not one enemy, but two.

I turned my head again, momentarily running backwards to catch a glimpse of my pursuers. They were closer and I counted at least two shadows. I turned and picked up the pace, my side complaining. This was just bloody great. I didn't even have any weapons to fight them with. My swords were still hidden in the mattress in my room and there was no way I could run back and grab them before the empousai caught up. Just my bloody luck. The pastries from the bakery swung in their little bag. And what the hell was I supposed to do with these? Dump them somewhere and come back for them later? I looked around quickly as I ran. Rolling my eyes, I chucked them on a passing windowsill. Maybe Ms Ives would die of food poisoning and do us all a favour. I sighed, darting inside the butcher. It was too early in the morning for this. I barrelled through the workers inside, throwing elbows, shouts and clattering following in my wake. The empousai hissed angrily at the workers, shoving their way through the crowd.

"Help, please help, these girls are going to hurt me!" I shrieked.

Which, I guess, they kinda were. It seemed to have the desired result on the workers and they began to move to grab the empousai. I sprinted away, helping myself to some of the meat cleavers on my way past. They were way bulkier than my swords were and top heavy; hard to swing. But it would have to do. Steel couldn't kill an empousa but it wouldn't tickle. Cries of surprise followed me out the large double doors as I ran out onto the street. The empousai must have broken free of the workers' grips. Passing locals leapt back in surprise, exclaiming first in confusion as I barged through the crowd, and then in fear as they took in my dirty clothes, wild eyes and the two large cleavers with fresh blood still dripping off them clutched in my hands. The crowds ran screaming, dispersing down the streets.

Well, at least now I had a clear area to fight in.

I spun back to face the empousa.

"Oooh, you almost lost us back there!" taunted the one on the left, the one from the bakery line, "Neat little trick with the workers, but it really didn't achieve much, did it?"

"Yeah!" exclaimed the other one, clearly eager to please its ringleader.

I rolled my eyes at them, taunting them.

"You guys are so boring," I yawned.

I stretched my neck and shoulders and loosened my arms, preparing to fight. This wasn't going to be pretty, but it wasn't the worst odds I'd faced. I studied the empousai in front of me. The one on the left was clearly the boss of the two; taller, stronger. She looked like a classic, popular teenage girl, but I knew that underneath that façade was a monster capable of tearing me apart limb by limb. I couldn't underestimate her little henchwoman either. She was smaller but probably just as skilled and strong. My eyes swept over them, taking it all in. So, when the empousa's eyes darted just above and to the left of my head, I spun, catching the claws that were aimed at the top of my spine with the flat of the cleaver's blade.

'Surprise attack from behind," I drawled, "So cliché!"

The third empousa growled menacingly at me and prowled back a few steps. I twirled, trying to keep all of them in my line of sight as they circled me.

"Come on guys, three to one, really?" I taunted, "I thought you had some dignity."

This time they all growled. I considered my options here. I could fight but that probably wouldn't end well since it was three to one, and the fact that my weapon wouldn't do any damage whereas theirs would maim me. So, maybe not. I could run, but unless I managed to make it back to my room before they caught me it would just end in the same result. Plus, I had lost my head start. Hiding wasn't an option and neither was negotiating so that really only left fighting.

Fighting it was.

It seemed that the empousai had come to the same conclusion that I had. They all launched themselves at me, claws slashing. I dropped to a crouch and raised the cleavers above my head in a defensive position. This was going to be messy. I deflected the first blow and parried the second, swinging in return. My blade hit something solid and an answering scream told me that it had hit its mark; the henchwoman. I tugged my arm but the blade was stuck. Dammit. These cleavers were not very helpful. Putting my full weight behind it I gritted my teeth and pulled. With a sickening squelch the blade popped free and I spun anticipating another attack. But I had wasted too much time freeing my stupid blade. The third empousa was slicing at my midriff with her honed claws. I twisted frantically but her claws raked along my rib cage, drawing blood. I hissed between my teeth, pressing a hand to my wound. Um, ow. I tried to keep all the empousa in my line of sight. This wasn't exactly going as I had planned. I spun again, this time attacking, just scratching one of their thighs. Having to dart back to avoid disembowelment, I realised this might not end well for me. If I had my swords, this would be a completely different matter, and if it weren't for Ms Ives I would have them. Two of the empousai drove forward at the same time and I deflected their strikes one after the other. But the blades were too heavy. I lost my balance and was shoved from behind, dropping the cleavers. I went sprawling into the trash in the alley outside the butcher. No, definitely not to plan. Propping myself up on an elbow, I watched the approaching empousa warily. The lead empousa laughed.

"Looks like you've lost little demigod," she sneered, crouching so that she was level with me. She pouted, "You really didn't put up much of a fight, did you?"

I spat at her, landing it directly on the middle of her face. Nailed it. If I was going out, I was going out in style. She scoffed and stood up.

"Pathetic," she leered, wiping the spit off her face, "Gabby, finish her off."

"Yes, Susan," the one I assumed was Gabby, replied.

Gabby, the empousa that had attacked me from behind, stalked towards me grinning sinisterly. I tried to rise, clutching my side, but I fell back down onto my knees, my head spinning. I had lost a fair bit of blood. The empousa chuckled. No, no, no, absolutely no way I was going to get beaten like this. I had one last shot, but I didn't like it. I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing. This time I could, would, control it. This time I would make it do what I said. I was about to release my devastating power on those flaming donkeys, when a blood-curdling scream pierced my meditative state.

...

I snapped my eyes open and scanned my surroundings. The second empousa, the one that I had stabbed earlier, was gone. The one called Susan swore in Greek and pointed a claw at me.

"What did you do," she snarled, "Where did she go?"

I shrugged. I truly didn't know. One second she was there and the next, poof, gone. Susan narrowed her eyes and pointed first to Gabby, then to the street behind them. Gabby nodded and ran out, to look for the other empousa I assumed.

"You..." Susan started but she was interrupted by another scream from behind her. Gabby stumbled towards us, blood pouring freely from the deep gash in her chest. Suddenly, she was covered in shadows, and when they cleared all that was left was dust. She was dead, sent back to the Underworld. Susan bellowed and ran to her fallen comrade.

"Idiot," I muttered, my survival instincts kicking in as I wormed my way into the trash around me, covering myself. Clearly something, or someone, was after them. She was going to get killed just like the others. My suspicion was confirmed by the scream that came from around the corner. Bloody hell, whoever they were, they were quick. Almost completely covered in trash, I turned some more, quickly drawing in my breath as I rolled over my wound. Gods, well wasn't this embarrassing. The great Celestia Lightwood, rolling in the trash, stalked by some invisible predator. Really great for my image. Speaking of predator, the shadows were back again. They swirled, manifesting into a shape that was vaguely human in front of the butcher, next to where Gabby had died. My eyes widened. It was a human. A boy. He was dressed in black, head to toe. I held my breath as his eyes scanned right over where I was hidden. The boy rolled his eyes, muttered something beneath his breath and turned back to the cobbles. I softly released my breath, grinning in relief. The boy shook his head, his long black hair falling in his eyes. I wrinkled my nose. Gods, had he never heard of a haircut? Then I noticed something that wiped all thoughts from my head. A flash of silver around his neck. No. No bloody way. That necklace! He was a demigod too! I needed to talk to him, asap. I rose from the trash. The boy glanced at me, alarmed, and disappeared in a streak of what looked like smoke. Oh, right, teleporting. Whoops. I ran into the clearing, searching for the shadows that signified his approach. And…there! Damn, he was close! I back-pedalled, trying to put more space between me and the shadows, but they passed right by me. I followed in quick pursuit, a hand pressed against my side to try to ease the bleeding. I was going to need some kind of medical attention soon. The shadows materialised into the boy again and he leaned against the alley wall, panting heavily, eyes closed, face pale.

"Hey!" I yelled, "Oi, demigod!"

The boy opened his eyes and glared at me.

"Um, okay," I thought with a frown, taking a step back, "That's…probably not a good response?"

Faster than my eye could follow he whipped one of his many daggers from his sheath along his leg.

"Woah! Hey, wait!"

The boy narrowed his eyes and threw the dagger. All that kept me alive was years of training and my reflexes. I spun and the dagger caught me on the left shoulder instead of through my heart. Dropping to one knee I abandoned my ribs in favour of my shoulder. The boy turned and ran down the alley. My blood quickly stained my hands in red. Gods damn it. I tried to stand and almost succeeded, but stumbled and groaned, falling to my knees. I was losing too much blood. The boy stopped running. I swore under my breath. He was coming to finish me off. I quickly scooted myself backwards, until my back hit the alley wall. Using the wall to push myself into a standing position, I was up. My vision blurred, my head thumped and suddenly I was falling away from the wall. I outstretched my arms in panic, hoping to cushion my landing. But, there was no need, because someone caught me.

...

The boy lowered me gently to the cobbles. I tried to crawl away but he grabbed me by the elbow.

"Hey, hey," he exclaimed, his voice soft, "You're bleeding, let me help you. I'm a medic."

"Yeah right," I scoffed, rising on my elbow, despite the boy's protests, "You are kind of the one who threw the knife at me, remember?"

The boy rubbed a hand over his face.

"Look," he said tiredly, "I didn't mean to, okay? It was an accident. I didn't realise you were a demigod. I thought that you were one of the empousai I was hunting."

"Whatever," I grumbled, but I tucked away that bit of information. He was hunting the empousai?

"I'm fine. I don't need your help; I've dealt with worse."

I tried to get up, but failed miserably, slumping back into the boy's arms.

"Clearly," he muttered, "Come on."

He slid his arms under my body and lifted me.

"Hey, put me down!" I protested, squirming. The boy grunted, but instead of putting me down, he simply readjusted his grip and started walking.

"Idiot," I exclaimed, "Put me down!"

"No," the boy replied, "You are bleeding out and you need medical attention before you die. I have medical supplies. I can help."

I shook my head. This guy would not take no for an answer. Fine. I feigned fainting, dropping my arm. While the boy was readjusting his grip, I spun, twisting myself out of his grasp and onto the cobbles, snatching one of the many knives from his side as I fell. I slammed onto my bad shoulder and gasped in pain, my vision flashing black. Rolling into a crouch, knife in hand, I looked up to find the boy staring at me wearily.

"Really?" he questioned.

I just glared at him.

"Honestly you probably just made your wound worse." the boy said incredulously, shaking his head. "Will you just let me help you?"

I tilted my head.

"No."

I half stumbled, half crawled my way to the alley wall, pausing to overcome my dizzy spells along the way. When I was fully standing, I turned to see the boy watching me.

"Bye," I said sarcastically, waving my hand to emphasise my point. I turned and, leaning on the wall, walked back down the alley, toward the butcher. I needed to cauterise my wounds, or do something else to stop the bleeding from my shoulder and ribs. I heard footsteps behind me.

"You are going to die without my help!" the boy insisted.

"Gods, he has a point," the little voice in the back of my head commented, "What exactly are you going to do, huh? You have no medical supplies at all and nowhere to go, unless you want to walk, bleeding, to the other side of town. And here is someone offering you help and you refuse.

"It could be a trap!" I argued back, "I don't know him, or where the hell we're going, or if he can even help."

"Well the situation honestly couldn't get any worse, could it," the voice responded.

It had a point.

"Can you really help," I questioned, pivoting to face him.

"Yes," the boy answered firmly, looking me in the eye.

I sighed internally.

"Fine, let's go I…"

The world spun and the last thing I saw before my vision faded was the boy in black rushing forward to catch me.

Hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests/recommendations/issues/general comments, don't be afraid to chuck them in a review, as long as they're constructive criticism and not flames. Next chapter will be posted in 8 days, and if you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Peace out - excusemewhileiasdfghjkl