Who I am

Through the Looking Glass

"Did you get what I asked?"

"Yes." A raspy voice says, bowing on one knee. He is in his sixth grade glamour. He hands the figure a silver vial with red liquid inside. 

"She will me mine." The figure pulls out a small doll, that appears to be done in careful focus. Whomever it was meant to be, it is a spitting image.

"Why do you want her? The others are just as good." The gritty voice claims. The figure rounds on him. He cowers back. 

"I need her because she is undecided. She has not sworn to the Clave. If I can convince her, she will be mine, and be a prodigy at the dark ways I would teach her. She's already halfway there, she's snapping and angry. Also, she's the child of the prophecy."

"Just because the others are decided does not mean you cannot use them. You could convince them. The blond haired boy would be good. He would do anything for the girl. What prophecy?" He adds

"I want her. She would do the same for the boy, that much is obvious, but I have more the threaten with her. Her mundane friends and family, the Shadowhunters, and the boy. Do you understand?" The demon nods and bows lower. She avoids his question of the prophecy. 

"Yes, ma'am Whatever you say."

The figure smiles, a crude, evil smile, and holds the doll like it could explode any moment. "You may go, Abbadon. That's all I need from you. For now." She adds. He bows again and leaves. The figure goes back to looking through the glass she was staring at.