I rolled over in my bed, slowly becoming conscious of a soft, familiar voice in my ear. I didn't want to wake up, but it's hard to sleep when your parabatai is trying to wake you. Anybody else, I could ignore; but Stamatina was my closest friend and my parabatai, we were.. Connected. She could get into my head.
I groaned, opening my eyes and gazing up at her. "Lyss!" She cried, grinning. "Kora, she's awake!" Stamatina rubbed her hands on her thighs, sitting up straight and rigid in her seat. I huffed and pulled myself into a sitting position, painfully aware of the stinging in each of my limbs and appendages. "How long was I asleep?" I mumbled, half to Stamatina and half to the doona I had pulled up around my chin.
"Oh, almost a week," she leaned forward, her light brown hair falling around her shoulders as she smiled and brushed my hair away from my face. "Demon bite, when we were in Manly."
I nodded. I had figured it would be something like that. I leaned my head back against the frame of the bed head, looking back at her. "Thanks, Stammie."
I heaved a sigh and smiled weakly, looking over her the way I so often did. I liked to just sit and soak in her simple beauty; she wasn't the kind of girl you would notice in a club, but she had a kind of quiet prettiness that shone in her eyes. She was Greek, with thick, dark eyelashes and wide brown eyes; she had olive skin and a delicate face with rose-stained cheeks; and beneath all this, she had a sweet nature and a positive attitude. She didn't seem at all like the kind of girl who would fight a demon; anyone who didn't know her would struggle to picture her with a sword. But I knew her better. Sweet as she was, when her adrenaline got pumping, nothing could stand in her way. It saddened me to think that she thought so lowly of herself, but teenage girls are all the same, whether they're a Shadowhunter, downworlder or a mundane.
I closed my eyes as Kora came over. Ungrateful as it was, I had no interest in talking to Kora Hendrix. She was a warlock, a little younger than me, that had probably saved my life; but I had never, in the slightest sense, liked her. I could hardly stand her. She was always so bright and loud and rocketing off the walls like she had taken some kind of mundane drug. If you gave her the chance to speak, she could- and would- babble on for hours about nothing in particular, or so I gathered, as she spoke too fast for me to know what, in all the dimensions, she was saying.
But, unfortunately, my efforts were in vain. "Alyyyyyssaaaaaaa," She stretched, poking at my face. "Eyes ooooopennnnn!" I swatted away her hand, opening one eye. Kora grinned up at me from under her white curtain of hair. "I have something for you. Can you point to where you're aching?" She asked. I huffed. "All over," I grumbled, folding my arms.
"Damn," she said, holding up a thick, green paste that smelt something like the lovechild of a demon and a mundane boy. "I might have to make some more. You need to spread this everywhere that hurts-" I cut her off, my eyes widening. "EVEN on my... Oh, not a chance."
Kora pouted. "But if you put it on, you'll feel better! Or, maybe you have to eat it, I don't quite remember. Why don't you try eating it?" She practically shoved it in my face. I looked at Stamatina, who nodded encouragingly. "Are you sure I won't drop dead?" I remarked, eyeing the paste suspiciously. Kora nodded brightly, holding it so close to my face some it had smudged across my nose. "Oops, sorry. Of course it won't kill you!" She wiped the concoction away from my face. "It won't even make you sick! Or, well, it might. But at worst, you'll only throw up a bit!"
I groaned. She was testing my patience. "I don't exactly feel in the mood to throw up whatever is left of my insides," I snapped, glaring at her. Her bottom lip quivered. "But... It will make you feel better..." She whimpered. Rolling my eyes, I took the bowl from her. "Fine."
"YAAAAY!" She jumped up and down on the spot, clapping her hands. "Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou-!!" I shoved a spoonful in her mouth. "But you're trying it first."
~
I stepped out of the shower, running my hands through my hair. I examined myself in the mirror, half-frowning. It was a little-known fact that, while I was a Shadowhunter, I had some pixie blood. It was why I looked the way I did, and after seventeen years I still disliked it. My face was a squarish kind of shape, with an angular jaw and dark lips that looked out of place in my relatively pale face. My eyes were an earthy green flecked with grey. My hair, above all, was my most unnatural feature; dark brown that fell just over my shoulders and was tipped with about an inch of green. Some people were fascinated by my appearance, but I thought they were stupid. I looked like a tree.
I sighed and wrapped a towel around my head, striding out of the bathroom and into my room. The rooms in the Sydney institute were fairly plain; what used to be a boarding house had been done up and covered with a glamour that made it look like a wreck. Given that there were two beds in my room, I had pushed them together to make a double. I pulled open a drawer and began to dig through it.
I pulled out my old jeans, continuing to root around for a while until I came across a dark green shirt with an old symbol on it. It was a shirt I hadn't seen since I was young, one my mother had given to me before she disappeared. I was almost sure it had been hers. The symbol was a kind of star; shaped out of twining branches, it had nine points; as did the flowers strewn across the branches. I stared at it for a while, examining it, before shoving it back into my drawer. I didn't want to look at that. I settled instead for a black t-shirt, threw on my clothes and stalked out of the room, feeling flustered.
I headed toward the infirmary, knowing that was where I'd left my stele. The paste had done nothing but make me sick so I thought a healing rune was in order. It wasn't until I was standing in the doorway did I realise that maybe, coming back wasn't a great idea. Stamatina was in her own room, washing off after my insides befriended her lap; Kora was nowhere to be seen, no doubt she had already gone skipping off back to whatever place she was staying, and that left only one person to clean up the mess.
Nathaniel Looked less than impressed.
"Alyssa," He said sharply, glaring at me. It was less of a greeting, more of an angry acknowledgement. I bit my lip. "I'm sorry, Nathaniel. If it wasn't for that sh-" He held up a hand. "Do not curse in my institute. We are mannered in Raziel's house," he warned. I sighed. Nathaniel could be nice when he wanted to be, but that was rare. Though he was undeniably attractive, he was strict and generally cold. I often compared him to a marble statue; beautiful to look at, but cool to the touch.
I mumbled an apology and took up a sponge. "Are you going to send for Leviathan, or would you rather be horrible and make me scrub like a mundane slave?" I asked. Nathaniel shook his head. "Neither. You're not well enough to clean, but I'm not asking a warlock to mop up your projectile..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Find Stamatina, she can watch over while you rest in your own room. REST, Alyssa, is the key word. I'll hold onto your stele, and none of your little mundie games."
I smiled. I had picked up on a few stupid games that mundane people liked to play; my favourite was 'truth or dare'. "Alright," I said, "no games."
Making my way down the corridor, I found Stamatina fairly quickly. She was in the library, her favourite room in the institute. When we were younger, we used to sit together and read mundane novels. She grew up and moved on to classic pieces from our own history, but I had not. I was fascinated by mundane culture; not something you'd hear from an average shadowhunter, I knew. Striding into the library, I hopped down the six marble steps and walked across the floor. My bare feet made a soft padding sound that echoed around the large room, causing Stamatina to smile without looking up from her book. I slowed down, enjoying the feeling of the cool marble under my feet. My toes sunk slightly into a gap where the slab of marble had been carved; if one was to look at the room from above, they would see old runes carved into the floor.
Reaching Stamatina, I put my hand on her shoulder. "Nathaniel wants you to watch me sleep," I grinned at the look on her face. "He wants you to make sure I rest," I added. She nodded. "I'm not stupid. You won't do that,' She pointed to the section of the library I loved to much, "now pick a mundie book and get your ass down to your room."
I smiled, wandering over to the rows of mundane books. I climbed half way up the ladder, hooked one leg through it and leaned over to the side to look at the titles of the books. Running my finger along the spine of each book within my reach, I finally settled on a novel titled, 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone'. I pulled it out and hopped down, following after my parabatai. I was looking forward to immersing myself in the mundane imagination.
