Nyla Herondale was a mystery, one that only a select few had the pleasure of knowing. Hidden in the shadows for months, Nyla finally steps back into her former life when the past comes knocking at the door. She'd left it all behind and never looked...
"Your heart beats like a drum The chase has just begun"
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Nyla Herondale was a mystery.
The shadow world could not deny that she was formidable, perhaps even dangerous in ways they couldn't imagine. She had always been kept under the strict rule of the clave, positioned in high society with her last name sparing her from what could have been.
If it were any other last name, the shadow world was sure that Nyla Herondale would have been locked up, not worshipped like a god.
She was the first of her kind; A shadowhunter with warlock abilities. At least, that's what the history books wrote about her...that she was a gift from the angels to prove shadowhunters were supreme beings, though Nyla had never believed them. She wasn't sure how she ended up the way she did but she doubted angels would 'gift' shadowhunters with the very thing they hated. The young shadowhunter was also sure she wasn't the first of her kind, even if someone else had to hide who they were.
In the Clave's eyes, Nyla couldn't have been a harm to anyone since they were the ones who chose how to raise her (or so they thought they were). They trained her to obey them and to follow rules, and for the most part she had. There was no trace of demon when they scanned her and she had been born to pure shadowhunter blood. Everyone knew that Angel blood was more powerful than demon, and would always overrule it. It couldn't have been anymore clear — she was a Herondale, part of one of the most ancient families in shadowhunter existence.
People knew about the magic but Nyla never used it around her fellow shadowhunters, feeling it disregarded all the other skills she had. She buried it for personal matters and when she needed it, sticking to her bow and arrows for everything else...though the arrows did get a small taste of her warlock abilities. Instead, people respected the leader in her.
Truth be told, Nyla had a love-hate relationship with the matter. She wanted to be apart of the warlocks, where she could escape the pressures that her name came with, but it would never be allowed. The closer she ever got was her frequent escapes to Magnus Bane, a warlock who'd helped her master her magic since she was a child, at the request of her father.
Her past wasn't all great. Everything had gone wrong from the moment she was forced to leave the New York institute and she wanted nothing more than to erase the last two years of her life — but she couldn't so she ran from it instead. Her father covered her tracks and she respected that.
"Nyla?"
"Hmm?"
Nyla Herondale turned her head to Magnus Bane. She had been staying with him for the last month, basking in the time away from anything shadowhunter related.
