From Ashes ✗ Stiles Stilinski [#𝟏]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 [ from ashes. ]

A/N: LONGEST FA CHAPTER EVAAARRR. So, I've hinted at this for a while and you're probably wondering if/when I was going to explain this. The title. The name drop. We're finally here. The chapter just before the action really starts. Next stop...Well, you'll see.

Side note: I feel like I shouldn't have to say this, but I don't share Sadie's beliefs (to an extent). These are characters.

Song Recommendation ["Take It All" - Ruelle]

NOTE: For the full experience, I do personally suggest seeking out each song rec.

☽ † ☾

Through hell's gates
The ground shakes
And valor wakes
And so it begins

☽ † ☾

Dry, cool air shot around Max's head and through her coat in a gust as she stepped out of the cab and shoved her wallet in her compact purse. She was already regretting not choosing jeans over her airport attire if not for the warmth, at least for the convenience of pockets. She'd tipped Shawna, the kind and quiet cab driver with grayish-brown dreadlocks and the brightest smile she'd ever seen in her life, more than she'd meant to but felt generous. She lugged her rolling suitcase out of the popped trunk that had a musky-sweet scent to it. Once she closed the trunk, the taxi rolled lazily away from the curb of the large white building that was connected to a row of other businesses.

Before she could even get a good look at the building, something large and wonderful bloomed inside her chest. She couldn't count the number of hours she spent learning about demons or practicing magic or reading the journals of those who came before. She couldn't remember a moment where she didn't know what she wanted to do with her life and now, here she was, a Watcher of the New Council. She was going to be assigned a Slayer and, maybe even someday, she might help save the world. There was as much fear in her head as excitement and she couldn't stop herself from wondering what her Grandfather would say, if he'd be proud of her.

She didn't know what to expect when she arrived in San Francisco, having only really seen the picture that wholesome prime time television painted. This was no pleasant row home overlooking a park or a large orange bridge. It wasn't even sunny today.

This couldn't be the right place, not with around forty girls living inside.

The white paint on the outside was ancient and badly chipped and the entrance must've been a corner store once, complete with large plate windows which were now boarded and cracked in some places and a blank sign in between the first and second floor. The ghost of words were still present there, but all she could make out was 'Willy's' and 'clearance'. She squinted at the rows of windows above the abandoned store, counting the number of floors and noting the glass was clean, free of cobwebs and yellowish tint of age, unlike the windows on the first floor. Some blinds were drawn and others gone completely but no one was in the windows.