ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴʟʏ ꜰɪʀᴇ ~ ᴛᴍɪ

Chapter 4 - The Silent Brothers

Shadowhunters were trained to wake up as early as possible since they were children—a well-known fact among Nephilim. But that never implied on Allison.

She wasn't a deep sleeper, but cannot function without a proper eight-hour nap. Especially when her bed was so warm and soft. It was five in the morning and Allison was already dressed, sitting in the library. She was sipping a herbal tea Hodge had made for her, thank that blessed soul.

Hodge sat behind the enormous desk in a suit, his gray hair shone silver in the dawn light escaping through the high windows. And Brother Jeremiah, the silent brother from the city of bones was standing in the shadows. To not be afraid of the Gregoi is utter stupidity, which Allison didn't possess. That made her avoid the Silent Brothers as much as possible. That day was inevitable.

Brother Jeremiah was a tall man like all the other brothers were. His parchment-colored robe fell from his neck to his foot, the hood raised covering his face. Intricate runic designs along the hem and sleeves looked as if they had been inked there in drying blood.

The doors opened at last and Clary, along with Jace strode in. She looked at Hodge and gave a small smile. Her eyes finally fell on the Silent Brother, her green eyes darting as she tried to discern the figure. Brother Jeremiah came out of the shadows.

"This," said Hodge, "is Brother Jeremiah of the Silent City."

He moved slowly towards them, making no sound as he moved.

"And this, Jeremiah," Hodge said, rising from his desk, "Clarissa Fray."

Allison didn't stand up, nestling deeper into the sofa. She was already minutes away from passing out and the warm tea was no help.

The hooded face turned slowly toward Clary. "Hello," she said.

There was no reply.

"I sent a letter to the Silent Brothers about all this last night," Allison set down her cup. "But it's Clary's choice whether she wants to get help from the Brothers. They can help you remove the block from your mind. Whatever that is hidden inside."

Clary said nothing.

Jace glanced at Allison, who looked half-awake just like her. He seemed satisfied with the mutual. She turned her attention towards Brother Jeremiah, not ignoring the fact she wanted to commit arson just yesterday.

Brother Jeremiah's face was still turned toward Clary, nothing but darkness visible underneath his hood. This is Jocelyn's daughter?

Clary gave a little gasp, stepping back. The words had echoed inside Allison's head, which she was used to. Not Clary.

"Yes," said Hodge, and added quickly, "but her father was mundane."

That does not matter, said Jeremiah. The blood of the Clave is dominant.

"Why did you call my mother Jocelyn?" said Clary, searching in vain for some sign of a face beneath the hood. "Did you know her?"

"The Brothers keep records on all members of the Clave," explained Hodge. "Exhaustive records—"

"Not that exhaustive," said Jace, "if they didn't even know she was still alive."

She likely had the assistance of a warlock in her disappearance. Most Shadowhunters cannot so easily escape the Clave. There was no emotion in Jeremiah's voice; he sounded neither approving nor disapproving of Jocelyn's actions.

"There's something I don't understand," Clary said. "Why would Valentine think my mom had the Mortal Cup? If she went through so much trouble to disappear as you said, then why would she bring it with her?"