Bane
A Mortal Instruments fan-fiction Chapter One.
It was a dark and stormy evening when the Warlock council convened its court. There was something astir in the Downworlder community, and they could sense it. The Warlocks who attended, those over the age of eighteen and of the higher class families, were on edge. Magnus Bane followed the others inside the dim and black room that accommodated these occasions. He looked around uneasily, sensing the nervous mood of the council. It was not often that the court was convened, only if there was a matter of great importance. Though Magnus was not of a higher class family, being the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he had to attend. His spiky black hair was arranged in its normal crown, his eyes covered in a dark shade of liner, but Magnus was not wearing any glitter. It was said amoungst the Warlocks that if Magnus Bane wasn’t wearing any glitter, then something must be astir. Maverick Jiggs, a friend of Magnus’ sat beside him and he, too, searched the room for even a thread of stability in anyone's face. They found none however, and contented themselves with surveying the others who walked through the door. All of the faces were solemn. It was Maverick who spoke first, noticing his friend’s gloom.
“Well, you’re not your perky self today, are you Magnus?” Maverick said, trying to lighten the mood. “I have no reason to be perky today, Jiggs. I was rudely awoken this morning by Josiah Krowl, who knocked on my door at the un-timely hour of 6pm, and was asked to attend today’s meeting. I had hardly enough time to cancel my appointments and figure our just what clothes were appropriate for this sort of thing. I’m sure you can sense my annoyance.” It was true, Magnus’ voice dripped with annoyance. An uneasy silence passed between the two as more and more Warlocks flooded through the doors: many more than a usual council meeting. The majority of those who passed through the doors looked tired and weary, as if they had all been called out of bed, as Magnus had.
"Magnus, do you know why they called us here?" He whispered, and several Warlocks turned their ears in his direction to hear the answer.
"Friend, if I knew, I would have told you already." Magnus answered in a solemn voice seldom heard from his mouth. "It must be bad, though. They've called in the novices." He made a gesture at the young Warlocks who entered the room now. There was a tone of worry in his voice, though none knew the reason for it.
Above them, in the dais, sat the council itself. There was a loud noise from above and the room was quieted instantly.
Josiah Krowl, the supreme head of the council, rose to his feet and announced the beginning of the session. A woman, Helga Dimmof, stood and addressed the room with a powerful, accented voice.
"I thank you all for coming here tonight on such short notice." She began, and her tail flicked back and forth. "I'm sure you are all wondering why we have summoned you. I am also sure that there are rumours floating around the room as well. I can assure you, as our secrets are kept well, that no one apart from the council knows this session's true significance." She paused and mentioned to Josiah to continue.
"Warlocks, we are faced with a difficult situation. The Nephillim have come to our doorstep and ask for our aid." His voice was hard, serious. A flicker of laughter went through the crowd. "Yes, I understand your laughter, but their motives are sound and apply to the Downworlder community. Here to explain their problem is Shadow-hunter Eliza Bennett. With a gesture of his taloned hands, Krowl brought forth a cloaked figure. The figure removed her hood and faced the room with courage.
"My name is Eliza Bennett. I am Nephillim and a member of the Clave. It is known to all Shadow-hunter and Warlock alike that our two races have had a rough relationship. But we humbly ask for your aid. In the past few months, we have witnessed a startling number of demons appearing in the streets of New York. We Nephillim are doing our best to keep control over the situation, but strange things are happening. These demon risings are growing, and even more disturbing is the way they are acting. Some demons are not attacking, but warning the Nephillim of something darker, more dangerous. This is behaviour is unheard of. We are beginning to believe them." Her voice wavered and grew small. "We fear that these demons are being truthful and are genuinely scared." Murmurs broke out amongst the Warlocks. A voice called, "What could they possibly be afraid of?" Magnus hmmpfed and slouched in his seat. Maverick shot an amused expression at him, but he was genuinely confused. The Nephillim would never come to the Warlocks for anything. They must be telling the truth, he thought.
A choked sound came from Eliza, as she answered slowly. "We are under the impression that these demons are serving a greater master. We fear that whatever greater demon or thing it is, it is growing stronger and we have reason to believe that it is planning to attack our world… and yours." “We humbly ask for your help. The Clave knows it cannot defeat this evil alone. We need help; help from you.”
The room was silent. Josiah Krowl stepped forward, unsure of what to say. "That is disturbing news." Heads nodded in the crowd. "We must plan a course of action. We need to protect our way of life. If there is one thing that the Clave and the Warlocks agree on it is on the subject of demons. I think that the Warlocks should vote to aid the Nephillim in this case."
Someone yelled out from the dimly lit room. "Why should we help them?" That outburst was followed by choruses of "I agree" and "The Clave has never helped us before". The once quiet session became chaotic in a matter of seconds.
Magnus looked up to see Eliza Bennett shake her head and sit down, as if she had expected this. He immediately believed the Shadow-hunter, though the crowd did not. She was afraid, and she needed their help. Krowl and Dimmof were trying, without any effort, to calm the crowd and consol the Shadow-hunter. Magnus realized that someone needed to restore order. He stood up and pointed his long index finger into the air. An echoing boom went through the chamber, immediately hushing the Warlocks.
"Peace, my people, Peace!" Magnus yelled into the throng. Krowl nodded once in the direction of Magnus, allowing him to sit down. Krowl then continued in a fierce voice.
"There is only one way to truly dictate our answer. The council must vote a Chancellor to male a supreme decision. Those in favor..." Her accented voice echoed through the silence.
One by one, all hands were raised. Magnus turned to Maverick, who looked back at him.
"Well, this settles it," Jiggs said, rubbing his hands in anticipation. "It's time for a showdown."
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Over the next five hours, every Warlock in the room battled against one another to gain superiority and win the vote of Chancellor. It was true Warlock fashion. The one with the most power would definitely win the votes of the council. Magnus excused himself from the fight, saying he was not fit enough to battle.
Even though all of the Warlocks had their own different style, they were still uniquely powerful. Magnus let his gaze wander over the room, scanning for a person who was worthy of his vote. There were a few who stood out. One, covered in striped fur like a tiger, had a catlike prowess that had Magnus on the edge of his seat. Another, Stephan Little, used his lizard tail to whip his opponents with powerful strikes. Then of course, Josiah Krowl was magnificent. He always had been, and that was the reason behind his placement in the council. He struck down his opposition with ease and a show of power that was matched with his keen intelligence. It was famous amoung the Warlocks.
But there was one person in particular, who attracted Magnus's gaze. A slender cloaked figure battled Gustavo Giovanni, a Warlock with metal claws for hands, and despite his power, Giovanni was unable to defeat the tiny mysterious person. The figure dodged every blow dealt by Giovanni, which was no small feat. Magnus watched, mesmerized by the figure's lithe movements and quick, effective spell casting. After beating Giovanni, the hooded stranger continued to battle and win against some of the more powerful Warlocks. Magnus witnessed, in shock, how the figure dodged the lizard tail of Stephan Little, and used the weight of his tail to throw him off balance and gain a victory. More and more Warlocks in the stands began to focus on the dark cloak that whirled around the room and triumphed over it's opponents. It became obvious to Magnus that this person behind the cloak would make it to the final rounds. Maverick rejoined him after congratulating his own defeater, and began to enthuse about the young cloaked Warlock's skill and cunning.
At last, the final two circled each other in the now empty ring in the room's center. Josiah Krowl was a powerful man, but Magnus had a feeling that the younger, hooded Warlock would be a challenging match for him. The two mirrored each other's steps, both waiting for an opening to strike. Krowl's upper lip turned in a snarl, trying to intimidate his opponent. But if the face under the hood showed any fear, it was not obvious to anyone watching. Krowl's hands snapped out and flames shot from them towards the cloaked Warlock. Quickly ducking, the figure avoided the blast and countered with a simple, yet strong, blast of air which caught the unsuspecting Krowl in the chest. He himself, though, was strong, and the attack only caused him to stumble. He turned to the figure and again the flames shot in its direction. The young Warlock didn't move, but the ground infront of the figure rose up to consume the fire before it hit. The fight continued, rising in it's intensity until both Warlocks seemed to be running short of ideas to cleverly disable the other. Krowl's mouth was a full snarl at that point, but the other didn't seem to be breaking a sweat. The cloak whirled as the wearer moved lithely around the ring to evade blasts of pure energy. But unexpectantly, the figure dropped to the ground. Josiah's brows furrowed in confusion, but continued his attack. It seemed that the figure was speaking a spell to the ground, and deflecting the opponent’s attacks simultaneously. The earth rose up around Krowl's ankles and braced tightly, immobilizing his feet. The figure did not look up, but kept murmuring softly. The earth crept up Josiah's legs. He began to panic as the earth enveloped his hips and sent a flurry of lightning at the figure. The cloaked head snapped up and raised gloved hands to absorb the energy from the blast. The young Warlock's body seemed to shimmer with power but the lightning sprang out the figure's other hand and hit Krowl square in the chest. His body slumped with the hit. The earth continued to cover his body and trapped his hands. The figure stalked towards the now-helpless Krowl and whistled a sad tune very softly. Krowl hung his head. The battle was won.
The room erupted in exclamations of happiness. Magnus saw several people passing eachother bets and exchange money. Looking up to the dais, Magnus saw Helga Dimmof glance down at Josiah Krowl and shake her head in disappointment. The young Eliza Bennett seemed out of place and nervous. She obviously didn't understand Warlock law and culture. Plus, he knew it was barely legal for any shadow-hunter to host a gathering such as the one she had just witnessed. He felt sorry for her because she did not care enough to try and comprehend their world, so similar to that of the shadow-hunter. Typical, Magnus thought. The Clave doesn’t even teach their own about Warlock culture.
One by one, the Warlocks lined up to cast their vote. Each ballot was a simple piece of white card. Each Warlock wrote down the name of the one they cast their vote for. After he voted, Magnus returned to his seat. Maverick soon joined him. Soon the last Warlocks had retreated from voting and sat down. The ballots were taken into the back chamber of the court to be counted.
Josiah Krowl's experience was his strength, while the hooded warrior seemed to gain a lot of votes of respect from past opponents, the novices and votes for a sheer show of skill. The vote was close. After an agonizing wait, the hooded figure was claimed victorious. The crowds of Warlocks all seemed to agree. This was their champion.
The hood was thrown back, and Magnus gaped at the person he saw. A young woman, no older than eighteen stood before the council. Now voted Chancellor. Her liner-rimmed, dark eyes flashed with defiance, and turned from dark blue to gold. She flipped her shoulder-length choppy, black hair over her shoulder, showing that the under-side was streaked with turquoise. The crowd went silent for only a moment to process the figure before them and then erupted into cheers.
"Who is that?" Maverick asked Magnus, who was still staring. “She can’t be more than a novice.”
"That," he answered shakily. "is my little sister. Viviana Bane."