Mundane's.

The city shines brightly despite the late hour, the billboards and building lights collectively mimicking the brightness of the sun.

The word used to describe those without the sight. Without powers.

The air is filled with noise, cars honking, people shouting, music booming.

A word to describe those that are normal.

A hooded man leans against a street light, seemingly waiting for taxi as he rolls a cigarette between his fingers.

To them, we are nothing but Myths. Legends. A figment of someone's imagination, portrayed in a book.

Two giggling teenagers stagger through the streets, laughter falling from their lips as they drunkenly push past people in the streets.

It amuses her sometimes to think of how little they know for creatures that think they know everything.

A middle aged woman stands at the side of curb, trying fruitlessly to flag down a cab, as she talks quickly into the phone jammed between her ear and shoulder.

They don't know about things that go bump in the night.

The man pushes off from the lamp post and makes his way down the street, his blue hair peaking out from under his hood as he slowly follows the two teenage girls down the street.

They don't know that New York. The Big Apple. The city that never sleeps. Is overrun with demons, creatures of darkness that emerge from the pits of hell.

Nobody seems to notice as the young man's face flickers slightly in the light of the billboards as he closes in on the two girls. He reaches out, his fingers curling around their elbows.

They have no idea that we are always there in the shadows, protecting them and watching their backs.

A figure drops behind the young man and plunges a sword into his chest. The young man's façade drops, his skin turning grotesque and his eyes black. The demon roars revealing his sharp teeth the split second before he crumbles into dust.

And we are the only thing standing between them and death.

The girls spin around startled nearly falling over in their tall heels as they feel someone grasp their elbows, only to see nobody there. The girls share a look and start to giggle, one of the girls faces lights up as she begins to drag her friend to another club. Oblivious to the figure watching them go, a glowing sword in hand thats drips with a dark substance and a pile of ash at her feet.

My name is Phoenix Emberglass and I am a Shadowhunter.