Okay, so my computer was being stupid and my tab button was being wack too, so its all indented funny. but I tried!
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY INFERNAL DEVICES CHARACTERS OR STORY LINE.
Hurriedly, mother had shoved Cassandra and I out the door with our already packed bags, hats, coat, gloves, boots and identical heart shaped golden lockets. The last words she said to us were all we had to keep us warm in the rain.
"My little Cassie, whatever happens, your smile will light up any situation. And my dear, CeCe, no matter the situation, follow your instincts. Your father and I shall make amends and seek you out as soon as we can. Just please," She kissed the crowns of our heads. "Please stay safe." And with that, she shut the door with a bang.
Little Cassie and I stared at the shut door in shock. Had we just been thrown out? Quickly, my infamous killer instincts kicked in.
"Maybe we can-" Cassie, being only 6 years of age, reached for the door handle in hopes of escaping the cold, but I held her back.
"You heard mother, we must seek out the Branwells." With Cassie in tow, I lightly jogged to our horse. Hoisting her onto Dawn first, I deftly climbed up after. As I did, I saw Cassie's eyes shining with unshed tears. "Oh, sweetheart. Mama just wanted to calm papa down without us around. Come on, how about you show me how well you know your colors." I suggested to keep her mind off of this. Dark, shining eyes peered back at me accompanying a heart-warming grin. Short, black curls bounced as she nodded eagerly. Like she had been taught, she gripped the saddle and I dug my heels into Dawn. Mother, whatever you do, stay safe.
O.o.O
Little Cassie shivered hard as we ran for the door of the London Institute. Her little hands banged on the door along with mine and my heart clenched. The loose sleeves of her dress and coat exposed only a bit of the runes father had put on her. Despite her only being three, he insisted she was strong enough and ready to train. Sadly, she was right, but a little thing like her didn't need to be that aware of the harshness of the world. As the door opened, I nearly fainted with relief.
A broad shouldered, muscular man dressed in servant's wear opened the door and as soon as his eyes fell upon us his expression turned into that of pure and utter concern, but he didn't invite us inside. My knuckles turned white as I clutched our luggage in desperation.
"What is your business?" he asked none too kindly.
"Hello, sir. I am Marceline Morgenstern and this is my little sister Cassandra. We are nephilim, but our mother has thrown as out of our home until further notice. Our understanding is that this is the London Institute for Nephilim. All we need is a place to stay. Please, sir." I blurted out my story as I pleaded silently with my eyes. As though he accepted my predicament, he stepped back from the doorway and gently led us in. Kindly, he took our bags.
"Thank you, sir, for letting us inside." Cassie explained regally.
"No thanks are necessary, but please, call me Cyril. Everyone does." The servant told us as we followed him. Cassie seemed to like his kindness for she flashed him her favorite little grin.
"Okay, Mr. Cyril." She squeaked. He looked away, but not before I saw his smile. Cassie seemed to ooze natural charm. Then there was I who needed as much as I could get. We followed this man for not too long until we came upon a very cozy looking drawing room. It held no one.
"Please, misses. make yourselves comfortable while I fetch my masters." He told us and bowed out. Cassie all but ran to make herself cozy in front of the burning fire and I couldn't help but join her. As I did, the questions started coming.
"Do you think mother will be okay?" Cassie asked me. For her to be only six years of age, father's hard discipline and training had aged her many years more. Where most children would play in the park, Cassie would practice writing and reading. The little genius could read aloud, but she said the words jumbled in her head. And at the moment, writing in print was much easy. It's just cursive she needs practice. Along with her natural smarts, she has also exceeded her training by two years.
Then there was me; quiet, reserved daughter of Alexander Morgenstern. My name seemed to be a well kept secret for my father's reason of 'If people knew of your natural skill, many would try to duplicate it.' He took more pride in my abilities than I did, but complaining would earn me none but horrors. My father made me keep my hair at chins length for battle purposes. Regardless of my age, which was indeed 17, I had long completed the required courses of a well-trained Nephilim. Now my courses consisted of battles with my father who did not make habit of mercy. Alexander did not stop the fight until something was broken or I had any other fatal injury. We battled twice a day, every day and said it would not stop until I could defeat him. And even after a whole year, I had not succeeded. However, in any other battle, I had never failed. But the many scars upon my body would lead others to think otherwise; especially the defined scar running along the width of my throat. That is what happens when you get distracted in battle, my father told me as my blood pooled out around me.
"I know mother will be fine." I finally answered, hoping my dark eyes didn't give anything away. Father went on his rampages once a week, but he had never threatened mother before. Something told me it might be a little more serious than usual, but us being there wouldn't help him.
"No you don't, Cece. But if she's going to die, I would at least like to know." Cassie said to me. My throat went dry as I tried to respond, but I was saved by a petite woman that entered the room. Everyone knew this woman because of her title; Charlotte Branwell, head of the London Institute. I rose off the ground and Cassie followed suit.
"Well you must be sisters." Charlotte noted. "And I am Charlotte Branwell."
"I know. My father has heard of you; Alexander Morgenstern." Her features turned from one of recognition to worry.
"Oh dear. I didn't know he had children. I fear you have had a strict upbringing from what I know of him." She guessed with her eyebrows knit in worry.
"Uh, yes. I suppose. But we needn't speak of such. I am most regretful that we have dropped upon you like this, but my mother-" I began to explain. Charlotte held up her hand.
"You need not explain yourselves to me. All I see are two sweet young shadowhunters that are in need of a home for the night and some dry clothes. After dinner, if you still wish to confide your story in me, than you must. But you both need a warm bath to clear your heads. There shall be no argument otherwise." Charlotte instructed none too kindly. As she rung for her maid, Sophie. My relief must've been evident from my change in posture for she smiled at us and then Cassie flashed her back with her famous grin that could melt hearts.
"Thank you, Miss Charlotte. I'm Cassie. Just so you know." Cassie introduced brightly. Charlotte shook with a content chuckle.
"Hello, Miss Cassie." Charlotte responded.
"My apologies, madam. I am Marceline." I introduced formally.
"Nonsense. It is a pleasure to meet you both." She nodded curtly. Before either of could respond, a tall, pretty servant girl with a defined scar across her cheek. This must be Sophie. "Sophie, Marceline and her younger sister, Cassandra will be staying here until further notice. Please bathe and dress them in dry clothes. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. And I shall introduce you to the rest of the group at dinner as soon as you are ready." Charlotte instructed.
"Sounds marvelous. And thank you for everything, Miss Branwell." I curtsied and Cassie did the same, then we followed Sophie out as she grabbed our luggage. As we traveled through the halls, I couldn't help but marvel at the fanciness of it all. Every inch of the wallpapers and paints were deftly applied and every piece of furniture and torch was placed perfectly. Knowing Cassie, she was already planning her next drawing as we walked. As I looked at her, I was assured. When Cassie was deep in thought, her eyebrows furrowed as she drummed her fingers along her skirts; her fingers itching to get started. But manners always came first with this one as she jogged to walk beside her.
"Hi, Miss Sophie! I'm Cassie." Cassie introduced brightly. Sophie, expectedly, smiled down at the little one at her elbow.
"Hello, miss. Pleased to meet you." Sophie greeted kindly.
"Back at you! And thank you for helping us tonight." Cassie thanked her.n
"Never mind it. It is my duty, miss." Sophie responded as I followed them down another corridor. Cassie giggled.
"My mother says its not nice to use bathroom words." Cassie's eyes sparkled. Sophie shook with reluctant laughter.
"You are quite the little girl, miss Cassie." Sophie said none too kindly. Cassie grinned up at her pleased as Sophie opened a door for us. "Would you like separate rooms or the same?" Sophie asked us.
"I would prefer the same room." I told her. "And thank you, Sophie." I thanked her as I passed her into the room.
"You are far too polite. It is nothing." Sophie waved off our thanks. The room was large and warm and the bed looked just as comfortable. Although, there was one tub."Cassie will bathe first. I would like to warm up a little before dinner, if that is alright." I told Sophie.
"But you are all wet-" Sophie began to protest.
"I understand that, so I will change, but I really do not need a bath just yet." I told her. Reluctantly, Sophie agreed.
Eh. Terrible ending but I decided to spilt what looooooooong part I had in half. Depending on the reviews, I might keep it going. so please tell me what you think!
