BLIND

Illusions Part 8

The Clave was, in varying terms, restless, as it met. The shadowhunters, used to carrying themselves arrogantly above the downworlders, were heavier on their feet than they usually were, the tension in the air nearly palpable. Even their typically presumptuous posture was bending with the unfolding events of what was, really, a war.

The werewolves at the meeting were in a fury, outraged that the years of mistreatment was still being continued on by Shadowhunter-supremacists. The werewolves weren't alone in their outrage--there was anger radiating from some of the present warlocks as well, and the only group that seemed truly uninspired was the Fey. They would blink and the problem would be gone, the murder of Lucian Greymark unimportant in their timeline.

Jia Penhallow was addressing the gathered group. Her words were not entirely inspiring-- she'd known Luke vaguely when they were young and the complicated politics surrounding his death, murder, weren't light on her mind. She apologized to the werewolves, a well-meant gesture that did not settle their anger, if anything, further enticing it to erupt.

"We don't want apologies, we want revenge!" A 'wolf shouted out.

"Kill the Morgenstern," Another voice shouted, angry, ready to spill demonic-shadowhunter blood.

"We need to have him tried, then he will be punished by Shadowhunter law," A shadowhunter male interjected, his loud and clear. It did little to help.

"We've been treated as nothing by you shadowhunters by years, killed, murdered, raped, and you think your law will cover all the Shadow boy deserves?"

There it was; the historical context that made this murder so bad. Even if he'd been cast out by the Clave, declared traitorous and an enemy by Idris, he was still a product of the shadowhunters' ways and prejudices. Morgenstern's blood wouldn't make it right, but it seemed like a wonderful place to start after ages of prosecution.

"We will reinstate all of our best efforts to find Morgenstern," Jia suggested from the front of the room.

"It's a bit late, don't you think, its already gotten one of us killed."

There was unrestrained tension in the air, as if the Clave room was a water balloon with too much liquid in it, ready to burst at any touch, however innocent.

Magnus could feel the tension, pulsing like a lesser form of magic, pulling at him, making him interested in a fight. Mob mentality, he concluded, trying to keep himself in check. He didn't want to fight, tempting as the swirl of emotions fluctuating in the room were. He hadn't felt such raw tension and energy at a Clave meeting since the riots that had sparked the revisal of the Accords.

Magnus wondered if it would escalate into actual violence. He looked around, trying to find his boyfriend so he could get him out of there if fighting began. Alec had said he was going to the Institute, and that had been the day before, so Magnus had assumed he'd slept there. He'd thought Alec would be at the meeting, but he couldn't find him. Usually, it wasn't very difficult for him to find Alec, but he'd been unable, often, as of late.

The meeting seemed to progress slowly after that outburst, as the community was debriefed and other topics were made to be the focus. It was like taking sandpaper to the skin, waiting. Magnus didn't know if they were so tense because of Luke or not, and it seemed to be just that on the Werewolves end, but it seemed like something else was crawling under some of the shadowhunters' skin. Something else was at play, some Shadowhunter drama, hopefully not something more.

The talking died down as a projector screen was pulled to the front of the room. Magnus wasn't sure what it was for, or that shadowhunters even owned such a thing. Runes usually fucked mundie machinery up, and he didn't see an actual projector...