Chapter 1: From Doubted to Tested

"Jace", Clary said, "I don't think she's ready."

Jace sighed. "I know, babe, I know. But we can't keep her from it forever," he said. Willow watched from behind a corner as her father pushed his hand through his hair. Distress was evident on his face.

"She's just...she isn't…" Clary sucked in a breath. "God, I feel like I'm betraying her just for thinking this but Willow just isn't qualified for being a Shadowhunter. She's always tripping over her own feet and she's probably as stealthy as a giant storming a village."

Willow held back a sob. Her parents didn't believe in her? She knew she was clumsy but to the point of not becoming a Shadowhunter? That was probably the most heartbreaking thing she had ever heard. How could they do this to her?

"If she isn't ready, we can't just launch her into it. Willow isn't prepared; it wouldn't be fair to do this to her," her dad said.

Not fair? she thought. And it was fair for them to stop her pursuing her dreams as a Shadowhunter?

Willow squeezed her eyes shut trying to hold back the tears. She ran to her room as quietly as she could, which was apparently not quiet at all. She forgot; she wasn't stealthy.

"Willow?" her mother called after her. "By the Angel, I think she heard us, Jace.

Willow finished getting dressed, and slipped on her black shoes. She threw on her black jacket and took a look in the mirror. Well, she definitely looked like a Shadowhunter, but she sure as hell didn't feel like one. Ever since that night when she was only twelve, she couldn't help but hold doubt in her mind. As the daughter of Clarissa and Jace Herondale, Willow had always felt as though everyone had high expectations for her. She worried every day that she would never be able to fit people's image of her, and because of this she always felt like a let down to her parents. Her mother and father were famous heroes. What was she? She was a clumsy and incapable girl. But a Shadowhunter? Probably not.

Asher, on the other hand, took after his mother and entered the Academy at a younger than average age . He had been so gifted at hand to hand combat that the trainer made a special exception for him, allowing him to enter at the tender age of nine years old. Willow was extremely jealous of Asher, knowing that his parents were probably extremely proud of him, when hers were not. She had gone as far as to study rune books from cover to cover, and to practice combat moves nonstop. The practice helped her a little, but her skills were still overall pathetic.

She sighed to herself and walked out of her room. Her parents were waiting for her patiently in the den with smiles on their faces. Willow swallowed hard, her heart in her throat.

"You look like your mother did when she first wore Shadowhunter gear," Jace said.

"Young and unprepared?" Willow said with a scowl.

Her mom sighed. "Willow, I can't say this enough. I am sorry for what we said that night. I truly am. But we were doing it for your safety."

"We didn't want you to get hurt," her dad added.

You didn't want to hurt your reputation, she thought sourly.

"Can we just go already?" Willow said, irritated by her parents sad apology.

"Are you sure you have everything you need?" her dad asked her, obviously stalling.

"I'm sure. Draw the Portal, Mom."

Willow watched as her mom moved her stele with little effort. Her hands were steady drawing the Portal rune; Willow's shook at her sides. She couldn't believe that she was actually going to the Academy! Finally. This was her dream come true. She supposed her parents had deemed her safe enough to herself and others to go train for what she was born to do.

But still her hands shook and she realized why: She was nervous. Incredibly and painfully nervous. She worried that she would embarrass herself and her family if she were to get hurt or do something stupid. She had imagined that scenario so many times in her head. It usually went a little like this:

Willow is in training, throwing daggers at a small target on the other side of the room. She hurls them over and over, missing each and every time. The instructor in the room laughs at her incompetence.

"You can't possibly be a Herondale," he would say.

Then Willow would force herself not to cry, throwing another dagger at the target, this time missing by three feet. The instructor continues to laugh.

"My dear, you are terrible!" he says and throws his head back laughing. "I'm sorry but this is not the place for you. Shadowhunter Academy is for real fighters."

And then he would pull a lever and Willow would be ejected from the building.

Well, she knew she wouldn't literally get ejected like in her cartoony imagination. But that's always how she feared it would go for some reason.

You will become a Shadowhunter, she reassured herself. You will get there and do your best. Don't worry, don't worry, don't worry.

Holding her breath, she stepped through the Portal.

It was unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Inside the portal was freezing, like she had been submerged in ice water, and she felt as if she were both floating and flying at the same time. The feeling was euphoric, and almost as quickly as it began, it was over.

Willow landed hard on the ground with a great thud.

Everything was black. She hadn't even remembered closing her eyes.

As the strange new place before her came into her vision, she took in her surroundings. She saw a beautiful landscape, one with tall trees and green grass, mountains lining the horizon. She thought to herself that if she had her art supplies with her, she would love to sit in that very spot all day, painting the beautiful scenery before her. She had heard of Alicante dozens of times from her parents and from Asher. The majority of the time he talked to her about the sparkling place, he told the tales of his multiple accomplishments at the Academy with a smug look on his face. Brat.

Willow had never actually been to Alicante in person. It was just as she had imagined it to be: sunny and beautiful, almost dreamlike. She looked around and saw they had landed next to Lake Lyn. The water was transparent, almost like glass, and the bright sunlight reflected off of its surface, reminding Willow of how mundie children movies portrayed faerie dust; Raziel, she used to worship those movies. She stared at the lake in a sort of daze until her mother spoke, snapping her back into reality.

"We need to head into the village," she said. "The Academy is just on the edge of town. It should be about an hour long walk."

"What, they don't have cars?" Willow asked.

"First lesson of becoming a shadowhunter," her dad said, "no complaining allowed."

The hike to Shadowhunter Academy was long and the silence was brutal and awkward. Her parents stared directly ahead as she silently begged them to ease the tension. They did not oblige.

When the Academy finally came into view, Willow sighed in relief. Her feet were aching and probably covered in blisters. Her mom really should make an anti-blister rune. She sat down on a bench outside the building and thought sadly that if that walk was too much then this was going to go even worse than she imagined it would. The admission process itself was going to probably maim her, not to mention the rigorous training and actually becoming a Shadowhunter. How was she going to be able to kill demons if she was worrying about blisters?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her parents glanced at each other nervously. By the Angel, now they probably thought she was too scared and were going to take her home. Instead, her dad knelt down in front of her and took her hands. He had a soft look on his face rather than the serious or comical expressions he usually wore. Willow was surprised. It was rare that he acted like this; the last time she could remember him being so… kind was when she was a little girl and scraped her knee. At the time, she thought she was going to die, but her father took her hands just like he did now and shushed her gently, calmly bandaging the cut. At the time, she had been too young to wear runes of any kind. He told her that she was brave for dealing with the pain, instead of just wishing it away with a mark.

"Willow, it's okay to be nervous," he said. "But you will do great. I know it. You're smart and perceptive. I'm positive that you will become a fantastic Shadowhunter; after all, you have angel blood in you."

And that was the problem. She had angel blood and everybody knew it; they probably expected her to have super strength and agility like her dad or rune powers like her mom. But she had neither of those things. In all of her life, she had been nothing more than an average Shadowhunter. In fact, she was probably below average. Her runes came out weak, the lines wobbly and unsure; her combat and weapon skills were not up to parr, and she swore that every time she prayed to the Angel, he was mind-blocking her. She wasn't a great warrior, she wasn't even a good one.

All Willow felt was unworthiness. She didn't deserve to be apart of this amazing world. Maybe some martial arts expert should take her place.

"Look, Willow, I know we may have hurt you when you heard us talking that night, but we were wrong. One of the most important qualities that a Shadowhunter must possess is passion, and you are one of the most passionate people I have ever known. When you want something, you keep working until you get it and you don't let anybody get in your way. Your mother and I believe in you, we really do," Jace said. He kept constant eye contact with her as he spoke. "I may sound very hypocritical right now, considering your mother and I were the only people that got in your way, but I want you to know that we are very sorry." By the end of his very emotional speech, Jace's voice was trembling.

There was a moment of silence when time felt like it had stilled. Willow kept her face devoid of emotions as the seconds ticked past.

"A+ on the parental speech, Dad!" said Willow, trying to ease the awkward tension that was building each quiet moment. Clary looked at her in disapproval as if to say for shame! Willow avoided her angry gaze. "I, um, I have to go in now…"

She walked away without looking back.

It took Willow a good ten minutes to find the entrance to the testing room. When she finally did, she sat outside the tall doors, wondering whether or not she would actually be able to open them. By the Angel, Willow had never been this scared before.

All around her, she saw children of many ages, in gear similar to what she was wearing. A young boy walked past her; he had to have been only ten years old. She felt her cheeks flush with shame over the fact that someone almost five years younger than her was braver and more capable than she was. Finally, without allowing herself a chance to walk away, Willow stood and flung the doors open.

She hadn't exactly thought about what would happen when she walked inside. Where did she have to go? Who did she have to find? Maybe she hadn't thought this whole thing through...

"You must be Willow Herondale," someone said from behind a counter, "we've been expecting you. Come this way." The woman's voice was loud, clear, and confident. It was the kind of voice that only belonged to someone important, and Willow was intimidated already.

The woman emerged from behind the desk and Willow would be lying if she said she wasn't shocked at her appearance. She was short and plump with a face that strongly resembled a frog; her big lips were painted a deep red that wasn't her color at all and she wore a very unflattering blouse that didn't quite look right with that particular shade of lipstick. Willow almost cried out with shock. Was this how unsuccessful Shadowhunters ended up? Is this how she would look? She was seriously contemplating running right back out of the doors she came in through.

The woman didn't say another word as she led Willow past another set of doors and into a room covered with panels that had hundreds of buttons and switches. Willow furrowed her eyebrows. What kind of testing room was this?

"Stay in here," the woman ordered. She then turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Willow drummed her fingers awkwardly. What was going to happen next? Did she need to be on guard? Was something going to attack her? She leaned against a table and crossed her arms to stop her fidgeting.

It'll be fine. Calm down, she told herself. Breathe in... and out…. In…. now out….

About five torturous minutes later, during which millions of ridiculous scenarios raced through her head, she heard footsteps approaching. At first, they were barely audible, but they began to get louder and louder, echoing off the walls of the closet-sized room, until she heard someone fumbling the door knob. Willow stood up straight and wiped her hands on her pants. She could hear her heart racing. The door made a loud squeaking noise as it opened…

Nothing could have prepared her for who walked in.


Leave us a review below and follow/favorite if you want to read more!