“We live and breathe words. It was books that kept me from taking my own life after I thought I could never love anyone, never be loved again. It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me and I with them”
'A ghost,' Magnus said. A smile hovered around his mouth. 'A spirit, sworn to protect the place. She's been there for a hundred and thirty years.' 'She?' Jocelyn said, leaning back against a dusty wall. 'A ghost? Really? What was her name?' 'You would recognize her last name, if I told it to you, but she wouldn't like that.' Magnus's gaze was faraway. 'I hope this means she's found peace.”
The Fairchild family has lived in an array of places over the generations. In the 1800s, they ran the London Institute; Granville was the first known Fairchild to lead the Institute, and, later, his daughter, Charlotte took over the post, before she ultimately went on to become the first female Consul.
The Lightwoods are a very old and very powerful family of Shadowhunters. They are members of the Clave, and the living family members currently all reside in the New York Institute. During the 1800s, they lived in London. They are known for their snobbish attitudes and disdain towards Downworlders and mundanes, though over time, they have become more tolerant of Downworlders. The members of the family often have Hebrew or biblical names.
Demons are malevolent, inter-dimensional beings that travel between worlds, destroying everything in their path. They return to their home dimension, the Void, when they die. Religiously, they are defined as Hell’s denizens and the servants of Satan.
Demons come in a large variety of species and forms, their numbers said to be infinite. (x)
"My parabatai, he loved like few ever could love, with all and everything. I see you are like that too; it burns more brightly in you than the fire of Heaven" - Brother Zachariah, City of Heavenly Fire.
After the first year, even though I still dreaded the day’s approach, I began to find that there was something Jem simple had to do every November tenth, some training excercise or some search that would take us to the far end of the city in the cold, wet winter weather. And I would abuse him bitterly for it of course. Sometimes the damp chill made him ill, or he would forget hus drugs and become ill on the day, coughing blood and confined to be, and that would be a distraction too. And only after it happened three times-for I am very stupid, Cecy, and think only of myself-did I realize that of course he was doing it for me. He had noticed the date and was doing all the could to draw me from my melancholy.