Sorry for the wait. I'm so relieved that the Gilgamesh project is FINALLY OVER! YES! MORE TIME FOR FANFICS AT LAST!
I might be working on another fanfiction, but it depends, really.
For this chapter, we get to see a little more of the plot, and we're moving out of the exposition and onto the Rising Action. Woo-hoo!
The Shadow World
Chapter Ten
Clary was late for Greenburg's class, and received a detention.
Clary was usually a good girl, with a perfectly spotless record. This time, Clary started dumbly at the little pink slip with Greenburg's flourishing signature on it.
"Well, would you please take a seat?" Greenburg asked grandly.
Clary sat down, eyes glued to that little slip.
(((())))
Fortunately, detention was only half an hour. If Clary moved quickly, she would make it in time for her shift at the Java Jones.
Hodge was in charge of detention.
Instead of making the kids sit on hard chairs and write about what they did wrong, Hodge made them clean.
Kingsley High had a Trophy Room, shelves crammed with gold, silver and bronze trophies and medals. Despite the fact that there were always a healthy (or not so healthy) amount of students in detention, there were always flakes of rust and blemishes on the gleaming surfaces.
Someone handed her a squirt bottle, a greasy rag that smelled like a mixture between dirty cat litter, rusty gears, vinegar and tear gas that has never been washed before.
"Ms. Fray, you'll be taking over that section..." Hodge gestured towards the section where a series of very dirty Volleyball trophies sat dejectedly.
Clary picked up the first one. It was for the Monthly State Championships Varsity Girl's Volleyball 1967.
1967!
Clary squirted a bit of lemony soap onto the brassy surface and scrubbed. The grease and dust disappeared quickly enough, but the rust seemed very reluctant to leave. In the end, Clary gave up with the rag and used her fingernails to pry a fleck off.
"Ms. Fray! What do you think you're doing?"
Clary nearly dropped the trophy in surprise.
"I'm cleaning it!"
"No, not with your fingernails!" Hodge tutted in disapproval. "Your fingernails will make scars on it. Use the rag!"
Clary picked the rag up disdainfully and scrubbed.
As if it helped.
It took her fifteen minutes to finish removing the rust from that stupid trophy, and another ten more minute of polishing until Hodge approved. Setting it down, Clary decided to give herself a two minute water break.
After taking a good drink of lemon water, Clary returned to her trophy section. As she picked up a Annual International Tournament Boy's Swim Team 1997, she noticed something out of place.
Clary moved to the tile on the floor. There seemed to be a little nick on it. She tapped a random tile. It made a thump noise. She tapped the out-of-place tile. It made a dum, dum, dum noise. It was hollow.
As Hodge turned to yell at another poor student, Clary pried the tile open. Inside was a medallion wrapped in dusty claret velvet.
Hodge turned around. Clary shoved the medallion and the velvet into her pocket and quickly nudged the tile back to place before picking up her trophy and swiping away the grease.
(((())))
Clary's hands flew as she shook the milk tea with ice. While shaking with one hand, she filled the cup with black pearls. Clary filtered the ice out of the milk tea and poured the tea into the cup before capping it and sticking a straw in. Clary smiled at the scruffy boy who paid and gave a tip before slinking out of the Java Jones.
Clary glanced around. There weren't a lot of people in the Java Jones, apart from a gaggle of girls who were huddled around a table talking about their English assignments. Good.
Clary hunched over the counter. Under her apron, she grabbed the medallion and placed it in front of her. Carefully unwrapping the delicate velvet, Clary's breath escaped in a hush.
It was a beautiful medallion. Despite the fact that it read 1986, the medallion showed no sign of rust or other disgusting things. It gleamed under the half light, dullish gold tinted with flecks of silver and bronze.
Valentine Morgernstern
Champion Shadowhunter
1986
Alicante, Idris
It was her father's. He was a good shadowhunter, the best, the champion.
Just as Clary lifted the medallion from the velvet, a photograph was revealed. Clary placed the medallion back down and held up the photograph.
It showed a young, man, semi-muscular, clean shaven with pale blond hair, a narrow but handsome face and black eyes. His lips were twisted into a wolfish grin as he laughed at jokes. His arms were around a much younger looking Jocelyn, dark red curls flying in the wind, beautiful. Another man seemed to be trying to keep up. He looked too awkward with his bulging muscles and sprouting beard. It was Luke, Jocelyn's boyfriend.
The man with pale hair must be Valentine, her father.
What happened to you? Clary thought, biting furiously on a thumbnail. How could you do...
Clary never had enough time to finish her thoughts. The tiny bell rang and Clary shoved the velvet, medallion and photograph out of sight. She straightened to see Jace walk in.
"How can I help you?" Clary asked, trying not to let Jace see her distress.
Maia's POV
Maia woke up.
Her hands moved instinctively to her face to rub her eyes. Then, she screamed. Thin silver bands were strapped in such a way across her wrists. If she kept her hands still, the silver wouldn't brush her skin. If she moved, pain.
Maia forced herself to open her eyes. The ground was tilting nauseatingly. Her feet scuffled some burlap. Her clothes were stained with blood and other dirty things she would rather not think about.
She was in a ship. There were piles of rope hung onto the walls, and a small window showed lapping waves. The only escape was a door at the other side of the room. How did she get here?
There was a grunt. Maia glanced beside her.
A scrawny boy with matted hair glanced pitifully at her. Maia inched away. For a brief moment, they studied each other.
"Eaurch!" the boy said.
"I'm sorry?" Maia said.
"Eeaurchgh gh!" the boy said more insistently.
"I'm sorry, but I really can't understand you," Maia replied, slightly flustered and annoyed. "Who are you?"
"Rrrgh!" the boy grunted, equally as frustrated.
"I'm Maia," Maia said.
"Ee Gurgh!" the boy gurgled. The boy opened his mouth, and Maia's eyes widened in disgust. Someone had cut out the boy's tongue. You could literally see the wriggling black stump squirming frantically, trying to create coherent words.
Suddenly, the door opened. Out of the shadows, a nightmare.
The creature was tall, way more than six feet and incredibly muscular. Bulging biceps strained to tear out of the shirt, and a massive broadsword was strapped onto his back. His hair was white, and his eyes were black, pure black, as if all the darkness in the world has been compressed inside those black, black eyes.
"Who are you?" Maia croaked.
The creature smiled. He drew out his sword, silver blade gleaming.
"I'm Valentine."
What will happen to Maia next?
Next chapter: More action!
3 Reviews= Moderate amount of action.
5 Reviews= Lots of Action
10 Reviews= A Clace Moment AND lots of action.
It's up to you to decide!