The manor was on fire. Valentine Morgenstern and his two children fled the site. Newborn Clarissa and 1 year old Jonathan both stared wide eyed at their father with, if he hadn't known better, what looked accusing eyes. Valentine vowed to make his two children the best, most powerful Shadowhunters know to the shadow world. Or unknown, he thought. The people of Alicante- along with his Jocelyn- would think they were dead, he made sure of that. Clarissa made a noise of pure joy, and when he looked down she had a fist full of her brother's hair that was flailing around but not crying. He chuckled as he walked up the steps to their new home. This is going to be quite the ride.

-Five years later-

Clary stood about 25 feet from a target. She set her feet and adjusted the blade she had balancing in her hand. Inhale, she lined up the throw. Exhale, she threw, pulling the blindfold off when she heard the satisfying thud of metal stabbing wood. She had made dead center. Valentine clapped for his daughter, she turned and grinned up at him. She was so much like her mother; he thought a little painfully then immediately shoved the thoughts from his head. To love is to destroy, the words rung through his head, and to be loved is to be the one destroyed.

"I think you are going to have to start training to use a sword. There's not much more you can learn with a simple dagger." She brightened even more if that was possible.

"really, father!?" whereas normal five year old should be learning how to count and say your ABC's, Clary knows French, Japanese, German, Spanish, English and learns how to use weapons as well as her ability with runes. You could say she is quite advanced in her education.

"Would I lie to you Clarissa? Now go get cleaned up for dinner." She skipped out of the training room and Valentine went to go find his son.

Jonathan was in the library pouring over books about Jonathan Shadowhunter. It's amazing, he thought, what a little angel blood can do. He thought of Clary, and what it did for her. The cup and she are a lot alike, a dash of angel blood and they can each do amazing things. His father opened the huge doors to the library and announced dinner. He got up and stacked the books back on the shelves and went to go wash up for dinner, all the while feeling a little bitter. Clary is the perfect kid, literally an angel child and he was a demon, a monster. Father told him he was important and when we would ask for what the answer was always the same thing- you will just have to wait and see.

-Eight years later-

"Why not!?" Clarissa screeched at her father. She wanted to do one thing for the birthday, only one thing! Go on a real demon hunt. That was it! But her father was refusing.

"Because I said so, Clarissa! Now go to your bedroom, I don't want to see you out of there tonight or there will be punishment!" she cringed, thinking of the whip, knife, demon blood, etc. she stormed off to her room, and sat on her bed, thinking. She couldn't live with this treatment anymore, the beatings, the yelling, and he's always gone, to where the angel knows. If she were to leave she would have to stay on the run, never staying in one place for too long. She had thought of this before but never this seriously. Before she could chicken out she packed a large bag with all things she would need to survive- 3 daggers, 2 seraph blades, a sword, her bow and arrows, and a lot of clothing. After packing the bag she decked herself with runes. Sliding her bag on to her shoulder she thought about the pictures she had seen of the Washington institute in a book and drew a portal keeping the image in mind she jumped sailing through the portal to freedom. Well, almost.

-Two years later (Clary's POV) -

Today is my 15th birthday, and by now i am the most intelligent, skilled and well known shadow hunter to live. But I am also on the run, and using a fake name. Adalynn Rose. Moving around the world I never stay in one place more than a month. People think I am a myth, a story the Washington institute make up for publicity, then others following.

Right now I was in New York. In my hunting gear- leather jacket, black tank top, short black skirt, combat boots, and glamour- I slipped into the all age's club, called pandemonium. Almost instantly the stench of demon hit my nose. Looking around i noticed a girl in a white dress, a rather large crystal, hanging on a chain that rested at the base of her throat, pulsed like a disembodied heart. Even from a distance I could see a few out lines of runes, and know she's Nephilim. The demon saw her too, and as she beckoned him with her eyes he followed, as if in a trance. Knowing their destination I sprinted through the crowd opening the door to the storage closet and slipped behind the door I shut it, pressing my back against the wall. The door opens and I slowly take out my two seraph blades. When she walks in her back is turned to me the door opens again and the demon walks in raising the two blades I slashed them in an 'X' formation cleanly cutting its head off. The girl stares at me, eyes wide, and then turns them back to the now vanishing body on the floor. She hasn't seen my face yet, it's still concealed in the shadows. I move out of the way of the door getting ready for the two boys about to come smashing in. they come in and stop in their tracks to watch the last of the demon disappear.

"Isabelle, why didn't you let us kill it!?" whined a blond haired, gold eyed, shadow hunter.

"i… wha…. Who- huh?" Isabelle stuttered. I snorted and all heads whipped towards me. The boys rushed at me trying to pin me to a concrete pillar. I stepped to the side, sticking my arm out, stopping goldielocks, then swung my leg out kicking his knees making them buckle and he falls to the floor. The other boy stops mid attack, staring at his friend on the floor, stunned. His bright, blue eyes widening. All this happened in a matter of two seconds.

"Who are you?" Isabelle demands, while blue eye's helps goldilocks off the floor, who looks stunned, as well.

"nuh uh uh, Isabelle. Cant know my name without me knowing all of your guises." I say, picking at the blood on my seraph blades. They just stare at me. "Well?" I ask looking up.

"Well, you already know my name, that's Jace Herondale, and that's Alec Lightwood, my brother." Isabelle says slowly, unsure.

"Clary Fray, at your service." I take a low bow, but stay down and grin up at them. This is going to be fun.

I know there are quite a few of these out there, but i wanted to focus on what her life would be like if Clary ran away, from being raised by Valentine. Yay? Nay? first fanfiction so bare with me! thanks for reading! :)

- .allegiant