New chapter featuring Eliza, Jocelyn and Madeleine! Hope you enjoy! I've got some new mundane OCs that I enjoy writing about that I'll introduce next chapter. The chapters will probably start getting longer for the story line's sake. Anyways, enjoy the read and please review!

-Laur

It was a rush of kisses and hugs to her parents, quick hand squeezes, and firm promises to write often that led to Amatis, Luke and Jocelyn waving goodbye to the Fairchilds, the carriage slowly mixing in with the traffic as families left for home, younger siblings sticking out their heads and frantically waving goodbye. The train of the slow moving carriages inched their way off the grass and slowly disappeared, one by one, onto the trail and moving on to their separate ways; either across the valley, along the edge of Brocelind forest, or through the foliage, back to their country homes, or their estates in Alicante.

A long line of students were still waving at their families when a tall, bearded man with cropped, black hair shouted for their attention. "Shadowhunters!" his voice cracked and Jocelyn wondered how Dean Townsend had managed to lose his voice already. "Head to your rooms! Females in South Wing, males in the North. Mundanes . . . the basement will do."
A few of the Shadowhunters snickered at that; they all knew what the lower floor was like. "Mundanes . . . Dismissed!" his voice cracked once more, and the kids who bore no runes scurried to grab their suitcases and duffel bags, running to the front doors and disappearing into the familiar halls.

The Shadowhunters stood in attention, their backs stiffly straight and their chests puffed out. The Dean continued, walking along the lines much like a drill sergeant would. "This year, I don't want any trouble. This might be a school full of children," he continued, and Jocelyn preceded to roll her eyes, "but I want everyone to act like adults. I know most of you have trouble handling the mundanes in a mature manner . . . and seeing after last year's incident," Dean Townsend scowled at a few snickering students in the line, "we've decreased the amount of mundanes in the pool for schooling this year."

A loud gasp echoed in the silent courtyard, everyone turning to stare at the culprit, Eliza Rosewain. "Is there a problem, Ms. Rosewain?"

"Yes!" she said defiantly, and Jocelyn was sure the rest of the student body internally groaned with her. "You're punishing the mundanes because we, Shadowhunters, didn't like them and decided to be bullies! Shouldn't there be restrictions on the Shadowhunter students, instead of the mundanes, who didn't do anything wrong?"

Dean Townsend glared at the short girl, who's blazing blue eyes could drill a hole into the man's forehead. "We are kind enough to let them join us; mundanes should be grateful they even have a chance to ascend to our rank."

"That's so pompous and untrue." Eliza rolled her eyes. "You might like to think that they need us, but really, in fifty years or so, Shadowhunters will die off! And it's because everyone was so prideful to think that we're so much better!"

"Rosewain!" a booming voice interrupted the argument, Eliza flinching immediately and clamping her mouth shut. It was Consul Delphinus, who, visibly, looked more intimidating than a great white shark. A pointed beard bristled at his chin, his large, heavy jaw clenched angrily, and at 6'5, towered over the especially small Eliza. He came strolling from the dark oak doors, moving with purpose as his large, leather boots clomped toward the very still Shadowhunter

students, who anxiously awaited Eliza's punishment. "Report to the Dean's office, where he can . . . discuss your attitude and lack of respect."

Jocelyn stared as the older girl gritted her teeth and nodded. "Alright." Dean Townsend also nodded, sending a grateful look to the Consul. "Now, as I was saying before, discipline and respect for the teachers and other students is essential to becoming a valiant Shadowhunter. Through your training this year, it will press you more extensively than years past. After the retirement of our trainer, Mr. Cartwright, we have a few additions to our staff that will be introduced tonight at dinner. Until then, unpack and get settled in." The Dean licked his lips, struggling to find any other inspiring words to lecture the students on, he dismissed them.

Jocelyn immediately headed to Madeleine, who rose her eyebrows at her. "Ready?"

Madeleine nodded and smiled, shouldering her backpack and lifting her black suitcase. So, bags in hand, they strolled into the school, unhurried and grateful for the time to relax before the lessons began. "How was your summer?"

Jocelyn shrugged. "It was nice. Luke and I stayed cooped up in the house most of the time. I tried to help him out with a few techniques I learned from my personal trainer a couple years ago but . . ."

Madeleine ended the predictable sentence. "Luke's still as bad as he was three months ago."
"I mean . . ." Jocelyn would've felt uncomfortable telling this to any other person, but it was Madeleine. "he's not terrible at everything -"

"He's just not really good at anything either, I know." Madeleine sighed, frowning. "Is he doing okay? He seems very mellow lately."

"Mellow?"

Madeleine rolled her eyes at her roommate and amended, "Sad. Depressed. Glum."

Jocelyn bit her lip, wondering if she should share the events on the carriage ride with her. "I haven't noticed anything different." she lied, shrugging.

"Oh . . . well it probably has something to do with rooming with Malachi Dieudonne."

Jocelyn laughed, thinking about Luke's reaction to the letter the week before. "You heard about that?"

"He wrote me a few days ago about how Dean Townsend is not even bothering to cover up his hatred for him anymore; Luke is convinced it's deliberate."

"Yeah, he let me read the letter. Poor Luke." Jocelyn was struggling to hide a grin, "I bet Malachi'll talk his ear off about Clave politics or any other dull subject."

"His brother, Trevon, told me that he planned on being the Consul when he was older." Madeleine smirked.

Jocelyn snorted. "Ha! Like anyone in our generation would tolerate him running the government."

"It sounds unlikely." Madeleine agreed, climbing the steps nimbly and waited for the short-legged Jocelyn to catch up.

"By the Angel, why are you so tall?" she muttered, glaring at her friend.

Madeleine smirked and rolled her eyes. "Why do you have nice hair?" she shot back at her.

"My hair?" Jocelyn fingered the frizzy ponytail. "Are you're seeing straight?"

"You're hair is so feathered and cute and mine is just . . . bleh."

Jocelyn shoved a perfect strand of straight, platinum hair into her roommate's face.

"It's straight.
"And flat."

"And straight."

"And boring."

"And straight."

"And . . . By the Angel, Jocelyn! Congrats! You're very observant!" Madeleine shoved Jocelyn's hand away as they mounted another set of stairs, arguing easily and playfully, passing groups of other girls heading to the tower. "It isn't 1973 anymore, so straight hair like mine isn't that great anyways."

"Well I like it. You'd be a great hippie."

Madeleine was about to elbow Jocelyn quite hard when someone called her over.

"Hey Jocelyn!"

The person in question froze and cautiously turned around, smiling forcefully at Maryse Trueblood. "What's up?"

"How are you?" she asked politely back, tossing her sleek, black hair over her shoulder.

Jocelyn craned her neck at the girl and wished, yet again, that she was tall. "I'm alright. How was your summer, Maryse?"

"It was brilliant." Maryse replied monotonically, suddenly stiffening.

"Umm . . . Is there anything I can do . . ."

"I actually just wanted to inform you of a new group forming and wondered if you wanted to join?" Maryse cut in coolly, any sign of her former stiffness disappearing into the usual confident facade of Maryse Trueblood.

Jocelyn shouldered her backpack nervously. "What kind of group?"

"It focuses mainly on the reformation of traditional ideas." Maryse stated fluently, as if reading from a script.

"Who's going?"

"A lot of people."

Jocelyn rolled her eyes. "Okay. So when does it meet?"

"Every other night."

Jocelyn's eyes bugged out, glancing at Madeleine beside her. "What kind of group is this again?"

"When more people attend, it'll become more interactive." Maryse avoided the question and shrugged her shoulders.

"Wait a minute . . ."Jocelyn narrowed her eyes. "Is this that fan club Valentine was `promoting at the end of last year? Because it sounds revolting and a waste of time."

"A simple no would suffice." Maryse turned up her elegant nose at Jocelyn and headed towards a group of younger girls.

"It looks like Valentine is taking his possy to the next level." Madeleine bit her lip worriedly. "Do you think people will actually join?"

"Well, she did a pretty good job at covering up any important details. If I hadn't heard about it last year, I would've considered going." Jocelyn said bitterly watching as the younger

shadowhunter girls nodded eagerly, staring in wonder that someone like Maryse would want to talk to them. "As popular as he is, I'm sure Valentine's group will flood in with members." Jocelyn folded her arms, suddenly becoming furious. "I don't understand it! Valentine is so full of himself. He thinks that just because everyone loves him-"

"Everyone does." Madeleine added sullenly.

"-and just because he's charming-"

"Also true."

"-he get's to do whatever he wants to do."

"Which he does."

"Not helping."

"Sorry." Madeleine grinned sheepishly and shut her mouth. "At least I'm being honest."

"You're really not helping me.."

"I'm also pretty sure that we're the only two at this school who loathe Morgenstern."

"Which is why we're friends!" Jocelyn slung her short arm over her tall friend's shoulder and they continued their walk to their room.

After a moment or two, Madeleine decided to add, "Eliza isn't all too fond of Valentine, either."

Jocelyn sighed, releasing her friend and folding her arms. "So?"

"I'm just saying she's not all that different."

"But weird."

"You're weird."

"You know I don't mean it like that." Jocelyn shrugged, dragging her feet as they hit the last staircase. "She's got weird ideas."

"Eliza is really nice! I don't see why you don't like her."

"Your plea isn't very convincing. Plenty of people are 'nice.' Valentine is nice, and so is Robert Lightwood, but you don't see me hanging with them do you?" Jocelyn grimaced and shook her head. "Anyways, I wouldn't want anyone to know I was associated with her."

Madeleine snorted and stopped in her tracks, Jocelyn impatiently waiting in front of her. "Associated? By the Angel!" Madeleine tossed her hair out of her face, her thin nose flaring. "You're just like everyone else sometimes!"

"I am not!" Jocelyn struggled to figure out what to say to her now angry friend and ultimately decided: she did not want to fight before school had even started. "Fine. I'll try to be nice to Eliza," she compromised grudgingly, before grinning impishly, "As long as I get the bed by the window!" and nearly plowed Madeleine over as she dashed to their usual room, grinning like an idiot as Madeleine passed her easily (Jocelyn blamed the legs) and plopped down on the farthest bed next to the large window. Madeleine smirked at her, and Jocelyn, naturally, stuck out her tongue, immensely glad that the topic of Valentine Morgenstern and Eliza Rosewain was now forgotten.

Eliza slid her shoulder lengthed hair behind her ear again, which seemed to constantly fall into her eyes. It was bright and small in the Dean's office, with a door on the left wall that led to Townsend's own living quarters. At the moment, she stood in front of a large desk that took up most of the room, while (she'd recognized the ploy ages ago) Dean Townsend pretended to read something highly interesting in the Codex. It was maddening, the wait, and Eliza wished they'd just skip the formalities and start with the lecture on respect or whatever else the Dean and Consul had come up with to try and reign her in to the "traditional way" of thinking. The waiting was highly nerve-wracking and worse than whatever punishment they'd likely give her.

"It's good that you came, Eliza." Dean Townsend finally acknowledged her, not looking up from reading the very (interesting) entry in the Codex.

"It isn't like I had much choice." Eliza muttered, raising an eyebrow at him.

Dean Townsend heaved a great, loud sigh, in which he snapped the weighted Codex shut, the sound quick and short. Eliza guessed amusedly that the Dean probably wished that he could snap her neck as easily as he closed the book. "Ms. Rosewain," he began carefully, meticulously pronouncing her last name, "I know that you are intelligent and young, and idealistic. I know that you have different opinions than most of us here. I also know that some students are offended by some of your outbursts-"

"They're offended?" Eliza laughed sardonically. "What about-"

"I know that despite your intelligence, however, you are not smart." Dean Townsend cut over Eliza's rant before she could get started. "You say whatever you want whenever and look down on others for their opposing beliefs. If you knew what you're doing, you'd stop it immediately."

"And why's that?" Eliza challenged, folding her arms and glaring at the Dean.

"You're creating enemies." he shot back at her, narrowing his eyes. "Life goes on out of this school if you hadn't noticed, and once you're gone, we can't protect you from whatever your fellow class members will inflict on you. No one will listen to anything you say while the Clave is in session because they've heard it enough times in school. You may never get married because no desires a wife that talks too much. Maybe one day, someone decides to throw a torch in your home while you sleep, and you, and your family, go up in smoke."

"What are you trying to-" Eliza licked her lips, horrified at what Dean Townsend was insinuating. Suddenly, the thought of Townsend snapping her neck was no longer amusing, and suddenly realistically horrific. "Are you threatening me?"

"No no no." he said smoothly and intertwined his fingers, a triumphant look on his face, "I'm only warning you of your future if you continue your path."

"You think I'd be martyred?" she asked incredulously. "I doubt someone would go to that extent-"

"Oh, believe it, Eliza. There are many out there who wouldn't even blink." he cut in coolly. "And a martyr insinuates that there is a cause that people are willing to rally behind. If something tragic happened to you, I doubt anyone would notice it."

Suddenly her eyes began to sting, and her stomach churned, imagining Maryse Trueblood, Valentine Morgenstern, or ( as appalling as it made her feel) Michael Wayland slitting her throat. "Are you done now?" Eliza rubbed her head, feeling her temples start to ache. "Can I go now that I will fear for my life whenever I sleep at night?" she asked irritably, not bothering with any sarcasm to make it sound untrue.

Townsend, believing he'd gotten to her at last, sat back in his chair and smirked, minutely waving his hand to send her out.

Eliza rolled her eyes and gladly left the office. She purposely left the door open, feeling an immature sense of victory when she heard him grumble, get up from his chair, and close the door himself.

"Stop looking out the window, you're starting to freak me out." Jocelyn told Madeleine, who was, in fact, staring out the window at the line of trees beyond the courtyard.

Madeleine glanced back at her friend, who was already lounging on her bed, legs crossed as she read, turning a page of her book. "Sorry," she said, sitting down, alarmed by the very similar movement in the trees she'd seen earlier that day, "I keep on thinking I see something watching the school, is all."

"There probably is. Some nasty fairies have decided to invade the school and turn us all into trees while we're asleep ."

"You think so?" Madeleine asked, horrified, her hazel eyes wide.

"No." Jocelyn laughed, wiping away the grin almost immediately when she saw her friend's horrified expression. "By the Angel, Maddie! I'm only joking. I'm one-hundred percent sure that we're safe and no one is out there. You're imagination is running wild and-"

"And I'm just making it up, I guess?" Madeleine snapped, suddenly feeling very irritated that everyone kept telling her that she was hallucinating. She wasn't crazy, if that was what everybody was hinting at. Everyone being, of course, Aspen and Jocelyn, the two people she was closest to. "I know what I saw. I thought I . . . well, it doesn't matter, but I know there's something by the trees that's been there most of the day, like it's waiting for something."

Jocelyn stared at Madeleine, her light eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure?"

"One-hundred percent." she repeated, her voice still holding a bit of venom for her roommate.

"Then we should check it out!" Jocelyn jumped up from her bed and sprung to her feet.

"But wha. . ." Madeleine's jaw dropped. "No, you're right. It probably is nothing but an animal!" As much as the movement bothered her, she had no desire or courage to go find out what it was.

"No, I want to know why you're seeing this happen!" Jocelyn challenged her.

"I don't think it's such a big deal." she replied weakly, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Then come on! Just a second ago I convinced you it was some evil fairies. Don't be so scared! If you think it's some animal, then let's make it move so it will stop bothering you, which, in turn, will make it stop bothering me."

"I really don't want to." Madeleine shook her head minutely, laying down in her bed. "Maybe we should just tell someone on staff."

"Well why not! You're the one just a minute ago snapping at me that you weren't making it up!"

"I'm not taking it back; I just feel no need to investigate it and potentially be in danger!"

Jocelyn raised a doubting eyebrow, folding her arms over her flat chest. "Do you really think that a downworlder is hiding in the underbrush?"

Madeleine looked sheepish and avoided eye contact. "Maybe?"

Jocelyn snorted and shook her head. "I'll just take Luke with me. It's about time we hunted together properly."

"No! Wait, Jocelyn! Don't take Luke." Madeleine stopped Jocelyn at the door. "Don't you remember . . . with his father?"

"It won't be a problem, because it's not a downworlder." Jocelyn assured her calmly. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

Madeleine bit her lip. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay. See you soon, then." Jocelyn sounded mildly disappointed as she left the room and headed towards Luke's.

Any ideas to what the movement is in the bush? Also, any theories to what Madeleine saw over her summer break? Leave your thoughts and comments in that cute review box down below please!

-Laur