The Keepers: Earth, Iron, and Blood ~A Shadowhunters Fanfiction ~

Chapter One

My face feels heavy. It's like I've got a brick resting on it...it's weird. It always happens when I'm feeling stressed – like I am, right now. I'm so close to getting out of this nasty place. College. I've been attending West York University for almost two years now and I still don't like it here. It's a fine college, but it's just given me this weird buzz. I can't put my finger on it, but something just never felt right here. I've overlooked it many times, thinking that the sleep deprivation from endless nights of studying have just made me paranoid. Surely, it can't be what I fear it is. That would be ridiculous.

The bell rings and I put my pencil down with a relieved breath. I grab my bookbag from the floor and slide my textbook into it. I'm quick to leave; I don't stay to ask the teacher any questions that I may have. That is what we have Google for. I stalk out of the classroom with my head low. I've tried my best to just blend in with the shadows, not wanting to get stopped by anyone or ran over. I've made no friends here and I can live with that. I've never been a social butterfly; not that anyone would blame me if they knew who I actually was. It's too hard to explain why I have scars on my body, scars that wouldn't make sense to anyone who didn't already know. I give a quick tug on my hoodie sleeve, covering the bit of black that had started to show. The tattoos that I've had since I was a child. Runes, is what they're actually called. There has only been a handful of times that someone has caught a glimpse of them and I always blow it off saying that it was an eighteenth birthday gift from a friend of mine. With the help of a friend here in New York, I've been able to get almost all of them removed. The only ones that remain are the ones that I actually wanted to keep. I wanted to keep the protection that they gave me.

I huddle up underneath my hood as I walk to the bus stop; the weather has been unforgiving today. It's cold, it's windy, and I'm not dressed for this. If I was in Florida, maybe a hoodie would've been enough. Anything that's below fifty isn't hoodie weather. Thankfully, I'm not having to wait long. The bus pulls up and I quickly get on with a few other students. I take a seat at the back, the furthest that I can get. I do my best to not use my sight, but it flickers on from time to time...and what I see isn't normally pretty; especially on public transportation. You'd be amazed to know just how many creatures ride on these things. I probably look like I'm squinting most of the time, to be honest. I just don't like using it unless I have to. I left that world; I don't want any part of it anymore.

My life was fantastic, things were great, until I was about ten-years-old. I lived in Idris with my grandparents. My Grandfather was a master of all sorts of things. See, my family aren't just Shadowhunters, we're more than that. You have the Iron Sisters and then there are the ones that are forgotten because they're no longer a necessity, The Craftsmen. My Grandfather was the last working Craftsmen in the family, after his Grandfather. He provided wooden weapons that worked better than anything metal. The gift skips a generation and I just happen to be the next generation that was gifted with the added bonus of being able to create wooden weapons.

Years and years ago, a horrible battle came about between the Nephilim's and a powerful, once Nephilim, Warlock, named Aspen Wolf. Aspen had been a fellow hunter and he was the best at what he did. He was set on a great path in life, set to be one of the greatest and to go down in the history books as one of the remembered ones. But, not too long after he had left Idris, an unseen attack left him wounded and unable to fight. Unknowingly, he had crossed over into the territory of a Warlock, which makes you fresh meat. Yes, the Accords keep the peace, but if you trespass, all the laws go off the table and you're on your own. The Warlock, Tiberius, that caught Aspen, was a ruthless man, power hungry and blinded by rage. He had broken many laws pertaining to what you're allowed to do with magic. He had taken Aspen, who already had a strong bloodline, and placed a curse on him for trespassing. Aspen became an equal to Tiberius in power, but he was controlled by Tiberius. He became his slave, his puppet. Overtime, Aspen regained his sense of control by breaking free of the Warlock's grip. Still possessing his power, and now just as evil as Tiberius, he killed the Warlock and took his place. More powerful than all the others, he wanted to go back to Idris and take over Alicante. He wanted to be the one that everyone answered to; he wanted to be the one and only.