Malachi Dieudonne was very bored. He'd arrived at the Academy before seven and after a thorough look around he found that very few teachers were even present. The Dean's office door was locked as well, which, as Malachi felt, was going to be the epitome of the rest of the year. As usual, the adults did not take anything seriously, and so, in cause and effect, no student would as well.

The wooden hallways were quiet and empty. Dust particles that had settled on the floor during the summer were picked up by Malachi's movements, and wafted in the air drowsily, only visible to him because of the early morning sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows.

Trevon had practically raced through the doors when he'd first arrived and headed his way to the direction of the dorms. Malachi assumed Trevon would immediately plop into bed and catch up on sleep after a late night/early morning packing (no thanks to their mother or Nikita for distracting them) and the long walk from home, across the stretching valley, and onto the pathway through the woods to the grand, gray building.

The place was admittably impressive with it's great towers, winged buttresses, and the large, stained glass depiction of the angel Raziel looming over the grounds. But as Malachi walked through the empty dark corridors, passing classroom after classroom, Malachi found that the awful taste in his mouth grew more distinct and present the farther he went.

By the angel, he hated this place.

Luckily this year, he could leave the moment his birthday came around in November. Then he could actually participate in the Clave, help make decisions and do something worth more than wasting years of his life. Nikita was adamant on him and Trevon staying all the years. Malachi assumed it was because, having passed the date in which Nikita could learn to fight, she was envious of her brothers. The fact that it was much cheaper to send two mouths to school instead of feeding and caring for them at home probably had something to do with it as well.

At the base of yet another staircase, Malachi glared up at the steep steps as he began to lug his suitcase up each level. Bringing the roller suitcase was enough of a hassle plowing through a wild field of prairie grass, but carrying it up half a dozen flights was even worse. Malachi reminded himself to add it to the long list of reasons of why he hated the place.

He began stumbling his way up, bruising his shins from the awkward weight, and was relieved to rest on the landing before starting up again. Malachi turned the corner, one wheel caught on the last step, his body lurching forward and his ankle rolling as he collapsed, consequently, at the Consul's feet.

Malachi, staring at the older man's heavy, leather boots an inch away from his nose, scrambled hastily up to his feet. He unceremoniously brushed any dust present on his clothes and straightened his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "Consul Delphinus." Malachi stated, sticking out his right hand rigidly. "I apologize for being so rude."

"No offense taken." Delphinus Monteverde frowned, shaking the young man's hand firmly. Malachi nearly gasped. The old man had an iron grip strong enough to rip the arm off of any human or demon. "I'm glad to have run into you. I was wondering if the entire school was deserted or not."

"I've seen a few teachers milling about, but no students, other than my brother, Trevon and I." Malachi reported nervously, finding it difficult to crane his neck to look up at the tall man. "I haven't seen Dean Townsend at all either."

"Peculiar." the Consul said, shifting a small box Malachi hadn't noticed from hand to hand. He noticed Malachi staring at it and explained, "I found this upstairs in one of the rooms after a quick inspection, and so I meant to bring it to the attention of the Dean after confiscating it."

Malachi peered at the intricate box, with an infinite symbol on both sides and other markings that Malachi did not recognize covering it. "Is that a pyxis, sir?"

"Yes it is!" Consul nodded, an expression that Malachi hopefully interpreted as impressed. "Very observant. It won't cause any damage; it's empty, but it still shouldn't be put into the hands of young and reckless teenagers."

Malachi nodded, silently agreeing with him, but found himself curious. "If you want, Consul Delphinus, I could hold onto it for you and give it to Dean Townsend, since I know you have other pressing matters to attend to."

As Malachi suspected, Delphinus laughed. "Did I not just tell you a pyxis shouldn't be allowed in a student's property?"

"It wouldn't be in my property." Malachi objected smoothly. "I'd give it to Dean Townsend immediately and you don't have to worry about it again."

The previous merriment left the older man as he warily stared at the young Shadowhunter. "What's your name, boy?"

Malachi ignored the irritated feeling of being inferior and straightened his posture. "Malachi Dieudonne, son of the late Howland Dieudonne."

Delphinus nodded, a look so hopefully dawning, Malachi thought that he might trust him. "I see . . . Malachi, I know that you are responsible, but I simply cannot let this fall into anyone's possession while you're at school. If you were an adult, maybe I would, but even then . . ."

"I'm only 3 months away from turning eighteen, sir. I could leave school if I really wanted to." Malachi sounded desperate. He knew that, and he was sure that Delphinus could hear it as well. So he calmed down, and thought before he spoke. "But I know that you are right and I am hardly responsible enough to carry an object like that. I only wanted to gain a little knowledge of the pyxis for when my class learns how to operate it at the end of term."

The Consul's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Malachi in aghast horror. "The teachers are letting children handle a pyxis? Why hasn't someone told me by now!"

Again, Malachi flinched at the word children, but was relieved despite his anger. Maybe he was getting somewhere with the old man. "The teachers thought it would be an exciting part of the curriculum that they're bringing back."

"There are reasons why learning about a pyxis was taken from the curriculum" Delphinus huffed, shifting the small box from hand to hand. "One too many accidents . . . or rather, too many blatant harassments."

"And I agree with you," Malachi said honestly, "Which is why I wanted to be as prepared as possible when we do start the opening process."

Consul Delphinus' resolve was crumbling; the way his graying eyebrows twitched up and down nervously was a sure sign. " . . . the curriculum . . ." he was muttering to himself, the pointed beard at his chin moving with his mouth, making it look like he was chewing on a hard bit of leather. "Alright then, young man." Delphinus relented. "You may deliver it to Dean Soandso immediately, and if I hear that it does not reach his possession . . ." the Consul paused for effect, "the consequences will be harsh for you, and for your future."

Malachi tried not to look guilty and nodded vigorously. "Of course Consul Delphinus."

The older man smirked minutely at the mention of his full title and handed the pyxis (delicately) over to the young shadowhunter. "Good day, Mr. Dieudonne. I hope that I was right in trusting you."

Malachi took the box carefully from the extending arm and held it with both hands. "Thank you, sir."

Malachi hurried up the staircase, leaving his suitcase on the landing. With a glance behind his shoulder, he watched as the Consul left the landing and headed to the west wing of the school, walking purposefully with his large boots clunking away. Malachi looked around the corner, stuffing the pyxis in the back of his pants and untucking his shirt. He raced the next two flights of stairs and headed to the fifth door on the left of the east tower. Yanking the door open, Malachi threw the object on his sheet covered bed, and wondered what the hell he was doing.

It was Eliza Rosewain that Madeleine looked forward to seeing more than anyone. Her cheery attitude was exactly what she needed to be in a better mood. But, unlike Aspen, Madeleine knew how to hide her emotions from Cressida. Her grandmother was just as adamant to have the young girls stay at house as last year. But it wasn't until a few gentle words from her husband that she relented.

They still received much grief for leaving, from angry dinners during the summer to criticizing letters during the school year. It was something that she and Aspen, however, could handle just fine over the nine months of Academy. It was just the three months that they both had to bear quietly and miserably that was difficult.

Aspen sat beside Madeleine, her arms folded across her curveless chest and bobbed hair falling into her face again. She looked grumpy sitting there, slouched over. Appearing like a little child, which, Madeliene begrudgingly admitted, wasn't entirely Aspen's fault. Madeleine cleared her throat in the uncomfortable silence, while her wrinkled grandmother glared at the two girls with her angry, grey eyes.

"You two better behave this year. I don't want any messages about my girls being burdens." she'd said.

Madeleine resisted the urge to retort that she and Aspen were perfectly well-behaved at school. There never had been a bad report home before, so where Cressida got the idea, was beyond Madeleine. So instead: "Of course, grandma, we'll try."

Cressida sniffed at the reply, but did not criticise the girls further. Instead, Grandpa Lloyd spoke up in his soft, muffled voice. "It'll be a fun year for the two of you." His bony knee nudged Aspen's, who in turn forced a smile and looked up.

"But not too much fun," Cressida cut in sharply, "Aspen, you're still tremendously shaky with your rune drawing and Madeleine, I've heard from your Trainer that you can be disarmed in less than a minute."

The old woman carried on with everything that Madeleine and Aspen had to improve on, while the two sisters brewed silently. Lloyd did not say anything further to avoid adding more fuel to Cressida's ever-growing spitfire. And so the carriage was filled with tense silence much like it had for most of the trip.

Beside Madeleine, she felt Aspen every few seconds twitching of impatience and boredom. Madeleine, however, did not mind the quiet. It was like a much needed recharging of a dead battery after a long, draining summer. It hadn't been too busy, but certain events had been . . . overwhelming. She hadn't written Jocelyn about what had happened, and was looking forward to someone who would actually believe her. Jocelyn was always a good listener and would love the story Madeleine had for her.

When the large plain was near it's end before becoming enveloped into a dense canopy, Madeleine's heart began to ache as she recognized the gray spires that shot above the tall treetops. Long tresses of weeds stretched almost above their carriage. Flowers and grass that had never been tamed brushed against its sides. Her heart bounced in time with each rut in the road, which had narrowed to allow just enough room for one carriage to pass through comfortably. It felt like the road through the forest took longer than the entire trip combined. Aspen peered around Madeleine's shoulder and felt her sigh as the grand Academy came into view.

She never would grow tired of looking at the gray building with the stone towers and artwork covering each wall. All she could see was the tall towers, and then slowly the red glass could be seen, and then the beautiful stained window finally came into full view. The early morning sunlight made the decor glow heavenly, and suddenly, the horses had pulled into the large courtyard, where a dozen more family carriages had parked themselves. Suitcases and duffel bags littered the grass, with small siblings running around the grounds. Parents chatted idly and stiffly to each other, while many of the teenagers embraced and greeted friends. But the first person Madeleine really saw was her friend of two years, Eliza Rosewain.

Eliza, as usual, was chatting to a large group surrounding her, which Madeleine recognized as the ascending mundanes. She nearly hopped out of the stuffy carriage right then, but, remembering her elderly grandparents, she helped the 70 and 68 year old down to the ground.

"Is it alright if I go meet up with my friends . . . or-"

"Well, you do still have you bags in the back..." Cressida hinted.

Madeleine fought back a frustrated sigh. "Alright, grandma. Afterwards, do you need anything else?"

Cressida peered around the vicinity. "Where has Aspen run off to already?"

Madeleine frowned and scanned the area, searching for Calantha, or another of Aspen's friends. None were in sight, so she told her she did not see Aspen. "Fine then." the aged woman sniffed. "After you grab your things, you have my permission to go off with your friends. But remember to say goodbye before we leave."

Madeleine nodded, beaming when Eliza made eye contact. The other girl winked and continued talking to her friends. Madeleine hurriedly heaved her and Aspen's bags off of the back and, after a small peck on the cheek from her grandfather, she ran to the group.

Now on the fray of the circle, Madeleine, who at first recognized the five others as mundanes, surprisingly saw that Calantha Freeman and Michael Wayland were among them. Coming around to Calantha's side and pulling her away for a moment, Madeleine asked quietly, "Have you seen Aspen? I didn't see her go inside."

Calantha looked up at Madeleine, her brown eyes narrowing. "Yes."

"Could you tell me where . . . or do you just want to not tell me."

Calantha rolled her eyes. "She's behind the school by the old spruce tree. She's not in a very good mood, just warning you. I barely spoke a word to her before she went into a huge spitfire."

Madeleine grimaced, shaking her head. "We had a bad carriage ride here. And a bad summer, all in all."

"Well, it doesn't excuse her to be so rude."

"No, it doesn't." Madeleine agreed. "But thank you. Maybe I can get her to apologize, yeah?"

"Maybe." Calantha scowled.

Madeleine began to head her way to the back of the school, before someone called her name. She turned around, and saw Eliza waving to her.

Leaving the group, Eliza jogged to catch up to her. "Where do you think you're going? I haven't even gotten a hug yet!"

She was pulled into a quick embrace by the shorter girl, smiling. It was nearly impossible not to smile around Eliza. "Sorry, Liz. My sister is just being . . . difficult lately."

"Can't blame her." frowned Eliza. She'd stayed a weekend at the Bellefleur house last summer and hadn't been invited back by Cressida since after she gave her ("offensive and radical") views on downworlders and mundanes.

Madeleine shrugged. "She'll get over it. Eventually her mood will pick up after some time away from home and she'll get better."

"You're right." Eliza agreed, bumping her shoulder. "But how have you been doing? My summer was boring, so I was hoping to feed off of yours."

Madeleine looked at her friend skeptically. "With my grandparents? You think my summer was fun?"

"Maybe a little interesting." Eliza shrugged again, this time bashfully. "You didn't fight with Grandma Cressie at all?"

"Too many times to be of any real significance."

"What, you're telling me you didn't do anything during the summer?"

"No . . ." Madeleine bit her lip, feeling the urge to tell her of what had really consumed her whole life the past three months. "I mean, I read a bit, and practiced some runes on myself-"

Eliza rolled her eyes, sighing. "Fine, tell me when you want to. Because I know something must've happened."

Madeleine stopped walking and stared at the edge of the forest. "How do you know that?"

Eliza stepped into the shade of the gray brick building, leaning against it casually. "You stopped responding to my mail in June. You always write during the summer. I assumed that something happened."

Madeleine frowned as the rustling started again in bushes, the green foliage hiding whatever was there. She started forward, a sick feeling in her stomach as she passed the school, and Eliza grabbed her elbow to swing her around.

"What's wrong?" Eliza looked worried, her normally bright eyes darkening.

"I thought I-" Madeleine swallowed, craning her head to look around her shoulder. "I thought I saw something moving the bushes."

Eliza whipped around, staring at the now still brush. "Where?"

"I . . . nevermind. It was probably just an animal or something."

"If you're sure?" Eliza's brow furrowed, her short hair gently floating around her in the humid breeze.

"Yeah." Madeleine shook her head, her stomach stopped it's rolling, and the nervous buzzing in her ears was gone."Anyways, nothing happened." Madeleine dared the trees to move again, "And you don't see me pressing you for any details. You said nothing happened, so that must mean you don't want to talk to me about what happened to you over the summer either!"

Madeleine felt triumphant in turning the topic away from her and the odd movement in the forest to whatever Eliza had done. She'd been called crazy too many times by Aspen this summer that if someone else told her, she would believe it. "I'm being honest. Not much happened. I went to Alicante every week or so with my parents, and read the rest of it. I did help out at the Wayland manor when one of their mundanes left abruptly, so I got some money from that-"

"So that's why Michael was talking to you?" Madeleine hinted, smirking a little.

"Well . . . I guess. We did spend a week together while his parents left for some kind of Clave duty or other." Eliza said casually, shrugging.

"So . . . nothing happened . . . at all. While you two were alone together in the house . . . by yourselves."

"Madeleine Euphemia Bellefleur! I don't like what you're insinuating." Eliza slapped her arm playfully. "Michael and I are just barely friends. So no, I did not just throw myself at him just because I think he's gorgeous and funny. Plus we weren't alone at all. Robert Lightwood was there more than half of the time anyways, doing things only parabatai do."

"Well . . . that's promising." Madeleine tried to stop the grin stretching across her face. "You at least find him attractive."

"There are plenty of guys that are attractive, it doesn't mean that I . . . By the Angel! I don't have to talk about this! And you don't have a right to ask, since you've refused to tell me about summer." Eliza huffed, her cheeks flushing perfectly from embarrassment. "Now go," she shooed Madeleine away, "find your sister and make her feel better."

Madeleine was laughing as Eliza scurried off to the now smaller group of people, containing two mundanes and, to the ever mounting curiosity of Madeleine, Michael Wayland. His dazzling grin flashed at Eliza as he swept back some of his brown hair out of his eyes. And as much as Madeleine wanted to watch, she remembered more pressing matters.

Aspen.

Right.

So how did y'all like it? I've had most of Saturday to myself and it's been a fantastic experience to relax, write and catch up on sleep. Please review and leave me your thoughts! I'm sorry if this beginning is a little slow. I have so many things to set up that this is the only way I can do it.

-Laur