MIERAN (Lady Midnight // Shadowhunter Chronicles) ~ A Fanfiction

Chapter One - I Am A Shadowhunter

Mark

News travelled fast; across the mortal world, across the Courts, especially in the Wild Hunt. I was trying to calm Windspear when my fellow riders came in a jeering, snarling horde. I was like a lone doe to the howling wolf packs in the mountains; a single swan in a lake to a school of piranhas.

I could have made a run for it, I supposed, but the ranks of the Hunt surrounded me faster than lions gathering around their newly caught prey, after days of gnawing hunger and starvation. I had heard the news. A group of The Fair Folk had been hung by the Clave in Idris, outside the City of Glass, in the land of the Shadowhunters.

The Clave. Such a strange thought to be thought of for one amongst the Wild Hunt. A Clave of Shadowhunters, born of angels and humans, sounded like people who had the power to protect and love, providing comfort without a hint of hopelessness or despair. As someone who had once been a part of them, I knew the Clave were not so. They are but monsters who have condemned me to this fate, this horror-filled world of twisted, jealous fey folk who sought to see me dead.

Gwyn had helped me cope with the Wild Hunt's ways at first, but he was no better than the others. How could they be, for did they have the blood of humans and angels in their veins at the same time? Did their skin bear permanent black runes of power and magic? No, and they hated anyone who even mentioned the word "Shadowhunter".

'Say the words "I am not a Shadowhunter", and we'll let you go,' hissed the first one, Uliath, who I remembered the silver-green hair of, the first day I joined. His mismatched eyes gleamed with hatred and joy at my suffering.

'I will not,' I replied steadily, my gaze flickering at each of their angry faces. How could I? Being Nephilim was something to be proud of. Shadowhunter blood trumped all other bloods, despite their cruelty when they gathered to meet as a Clave. My siblings were Shadowhunters. I could not give them up, for I knew if I began saying that I was not a Shadowhunter, my hope would cease to exist, and I would truly be broken down, as Gwyn wished for me to be so that I could become one of his ideal riders.

'Say it!' growled another, pushing me from behind so I was unbalanced and went on my knees.

Remember them, I thought to myself. Remember the Blackthorns.

'No,' I rasped, dust in my throat and tears threatening to show my weakness as they slammed my face into the mud.

'Say that you are not a Shadowhunter, and your agony will stop,' insisted another as they delivered more kicks and blows onto my body. I tried to reach my sword, but they had my arms pinned behind my back, bent in a painful way.

I cried out for the first time. They laughed cruelly at my display of pain, and began ripping off my shirt, my weapons belt. I was afraid. Afraid of what they might do to me, whilst I was on the ground, completely helpless and weak.

I am Mark Blackthorn, son of the Lady Nerissa and Andrew Blackthorn of the Los Angeles Institute, I thought desperately to myself. Helen. Julian. Tiberius. Livia. Drusilla. Octavian.

Do not give in. For them.

They decided to begin whipping me with the traditional hunting whips of the Hunt, which they carried for fighting. The first slash came so suddenly and unexpectedly that I screamed out loud, before my voice was muffled by the snow I was pushed down into. I could feel the hot blood streaming down my bare back, against the freezing cold. But soon it numbed, for the snowflakes landed on my back and soothed my wounds, taking my senses away. Each whip had less impact on me than the last. The searing pain came with the sound of cut air, and then it faded away with the frostiness.

A human would have died then, even before the whipping, from the cold. A half-fey would survive half-way through the whips. A full fey would die a bit longer after. But I was a Shadowhunter. I survived, purely because of my will to live, my never-failing wish to see the day of my return, and my family.

My beloved siblings. Helen. Julian. Tiberius. Livia. Drusilla. Octavian.

Just before my vision darkened and I fainted, one last clear thought rang in my head - I am a Shadowhunter.