✓ | Silent Shadows ⋆ Will Herondale [1]

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: MOURN

◤Tess, there is no Law against you remaining here as our guest. I have searched the archives and have found nothing that would prevent you from staying, if you want to, that is. So, do you consent, Tessa? Will you stay with us?◢

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CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: MOURN

CERTAIN events were never supposed to happen. People were not supposed to die and Shadowhunters ought to have known better. They should have known better than to trust someone who had only just entered their lives, claiming that he knew who Magister was and what his plans were.

If they had spared a moment to thoroughly think about it, Thomas and Agatha would have been alive. Tessa would not be scared by the Clave and Will would still be talking to Marie; instead, everyone seemed to have embarked on their own, separate journey.

Marie Wayland was no exception. The girl kept on a strong face, displayed for the world around her. By building a strong facade, she managed to fool everyone into thinking she had been good at coping with the situation.

Marie wasn't proud of it, but the lack of constant nagging of her friends and family had brought a veil of peace; if one could call the miserable feeling that was eating her inside - peace.

"This is it," Charlotte announced as the carriage came to a sudden halt.

Lifting up her chin, Marie smiled weakly. Her fingers played with the hem of her white dress. It reached  past her knees and down her ankles; its bodice hugged Marie's waist tightly, but brought no warmth to the girl. In fact, it left her to shiver on the cold London breeze in the middle of the graveyard.

Sadness did not make it easier, either. Somehow, it all added up to the numbness that filled Marie's system. She couldn't distinguish sadness from pain, coldness from misery.

How could one feel when burying a dear friend, other than numb? If they allowed feelings to rule over their heads, they would end up being lost. It would mean that their loved ones were truly gone.

But they were gone. Dead.

It was, after all, the reason behind Shadowhunters' white dress code. They were honoring the fallen warriors.

The six of them – Charlotte, Henry, Jessamine, Marie, Jem and Will – stood outside, heavy rain dancing down on them, staining every inch of their skin as they watched their friends' bodies burn with wild, red flames.

In that moment, none of them thought about the past events – of Mortmain or Nathaniel. They couldn't bring themselves to do so. Well, none of them besides Marie.

Her restless mind kept on returning to the recent questioning she had been put through, along with Tessa, Jem and Will. They were forced to give all the information about Mortmain, including the Mark Marie had on her back. She decided to tell them everything she knew, hoping that at least one member of the Clave would know something of its origin or what it meant. But alas, they were of no help, either. And as if it hadn't already been torturous enough, Marie had to see her father again. Of course, no kind words or polite greetings were exchanged, only harsh glares and blank expressions.

Marie wasn't surprised when she learned that Will had disobeyed the members and was sentenced with a punishment of sorts, either. Jem, because of his polite manners, had been quick and concise in sharing his experiences, earning an acknowledgement of the Clave. Tessa's interrogation, on the other hand, was the longest one.