Actions not Words (Will Herondale x OC)

Chapter 8

Dear Sophia,

I'll have to leave for college in a few months. I only hope you'll miss me when I'm gone; I know I'll miss you. I'll come home every chance I can. That is if you guys don't move away first, but that is the danger of having family in the military.

Love,

Older Sister

Author's Note: I'll continue to write these little letters to my sister since no one said it bothered them.

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I gasped in shock as Will fell to his knees, the ceramic jar in pieces around him, and his hair was doused with the water that had been within the jar. I took a step forward and drew my seraph blade; the angelic blade immediately appeared and glowed in the darkness of the room.

With the seraph blade lighting the area, I found the edge of the sword at the throat of a girl around my age. She had chestnut hair and wide grey eyes, but I'm sure her eyes only seemed wide because I had suddenly drawn a sword of light and held it to her throat.

I quickly assessed that this girl in front of me had merely hit Will upon the head with a jar because she had thought he might have been someone else, so I removed the seraph blade from her throat to check on Will, who had since stood himself back up and was holding his head.

"Dear me. I believe I am mortally wounded, Soph," Will complained, his face twisted up on fake hurt.

"I do believe you will live, Will," I signed, shaking my head at the boy. "Serves you right for scaring the poor girl."

"I thought you were someone else," the girl by the door had recovered from the shock of having a sword pulled on her as her steely grey eyes took in Will and me.

"I believe I will die of blood loss," Will griped.

"Ask for her name," I ordered Will, whose hand was still on his head as he moaned about the fake pain. "I'll heal your 'mortal wound.'"

"Are you the Magister?" the girl's eyes bored into Will as I withdrew my stele and drew an iratze on Will.

"That's Latin for master, isn't it?" Will raised an eyebrow. "I don't think anyone's called me 'master' before."

"The ability for your ego to inflate so much never ceases to amaze me," I glared at Will, who threw me a sheepish smirk back.

"Are you the Magister?" the girl asked again.

"No, I am not the Magister, but I do have a few questions for you," Will raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the room the three of us were currently in. The door Will and I had used to enter had shut without me noticing - most likely because I was too busy dealing with Will's antics. "What is your name?"

"Theresa Gray," the girl gave the both of us a curt nod.

"I am William Herondale, and my lovely companion is Sophia Carstairs," Will gestured towards himself then towards me as he introduced the two of us. "Why are you here?"

"There are two...women here with me. They've been having me utilize an ability I didn't even know I had possessed until coming here. They've also been talking about marrying me to someone named 'The Magister,'" Theresa sighed, rubbing her temple with her hands, looking like even she didn't believe her life would be turned upside down so oddly.

"That would explain the wedding dress," Will hummed. Theresa shot us a confused glance, and Will elaborated. "Sophia and I were looking through the rooms, and we stumbled on one decorated in a manner I would only describe as matrimonial. There was a wedding dress hanging in the dresser. Honestly, it was made horribly."