Upon first glance, Cerelia "Cerie" Schofield is unassuming. Standing at only 5'4 with a lithe and petite build, she would fit in better with the likes of Mundanes rather than the Nephilim. Her figure is toned and strong with runes covering her body in beautiful swirls. Her light brunette hair, much like her father's, falls down to her sternum in a very loose wave. It grows lighter with exposure to sun and can often be found in a fishtail braid. Her eyes, her favorite feature of herself, seem to be an ordinary light brown. When they're observed closely, they're a golden brown that flicker with green hues in the sunlight. They turn more towards a mossy green color when she's been crying. Small scars litter her body from previous battles with demons and some are present from childhood accidents. Her posture is stable and strong as she strides through spaces with her head held high. She has a slight mannerism of playing with her hair when she's nervous but she's done her best to suppress it over the years. The clothes she wears are usually dark, muted colors but she's partial to maroons, deep purples, and sweaters.
Cerelia was born on a calm April day to Killian and Naomi Schofield in Idris. Her parents already had two children before her birth but were excited to find out that their youngest child was a girl. Naomi’s family had a long track record of only bearing boys. It seemed as if the tide changed when Cerie was born, in more ways than one. Her name meant ‘of the spring’ and it seemed as the youngest Schofield embodied everything that spring offered. She had an affinity for nature and gentle as the warm spring rain. What others rarely understood was that the young girl had an ambitious and independent streak that was never predicted. She was born from Nephilim blood, though, and showed promise from a young age. Even with her soft demeanor and habit of observing situations rather than jumping in with words, she was a force to be reckoned with. Her mother, an outspoken woman with a sharp tongue, doubted her daughter. Her father, observant just like his daughter, knew that her silent strength would be valued amongst their kind. She wasn’t arrogant or prideful; she was resourceful and used logic at each turn. The lack of words flowing from her mouth just hinted the deep thoughts within.
At age 12, Cerie started her training at the Shadowhunter Academy. She did well in all of her academic courses but struggled with the physical training. Her thin body wasn’t used to all of the strength she needed for yielding weapons but she did have agility and stamina. It took nearly a year but she could finally hold her own in her Combat class. Over the years she quickly rose to her class because of her intelligence. It was clear after the first three years that her ultimate goal was to become a Centurion. She would need to excel in all of her classes and make herself indispensable. Despite this focus and ambition to succeed, Cerie made a close circle of friends while she was at Academy. She wasn’t overly loud or active in social circles but she enjoyed getting close to those who weren’t obsessed with talking about themselves. She proved to be a trusting friend with good advice and always ready for a debate. She was seen as a wallflower by some around her but those closest realized that she was selective with who she let in. Although she learned a lot about herself and was proud of those things, she knew her flaws were many and varied. Despite the wisdom she inherently had, she was prone to pessimism. Her logical mind told her that she couldn't get by with being unrealistic, especially not as a future Shadowhunter. If anything upset her, she had the bad habit of keeping it in until it bubbled up and forced her to lash out at those around her. Despite the outbursts, she never brought herself to change. She was comfortable with her internal feelings but felt extremely vulnerable by expressing them. Unless she was happy, she had a tough time of expressing her emotions. She would rather lie about how she felt than let an unworthy person in. By the time she was 18, these elements of her personality became deeply ingrained. She was her own person now. It was also time to graduate in that year; she was no longer a girl but now a woman. At that time she had a bright future to look forward to. She had friends who would stick by her side, a potential spot at Scholomance, and a man that she adored.
Even to Cerie’s young mind it was a bit ridiculous for her to see such a future with a man she knew from the Academy. Isaac was nearly the opposite of her: arrogant, quick to jump into any situation, and a bit reckless. They hit it when they were 16 and the bond stuck. After graduation, she planned to attend the Scholomance. Isaac, being the persuasive person that he was, convinced her to travel with him instead. The pair went all over the mundane world, exploring the places that she read about as a young girl. It was an amazing experience but never perfect. The two argued more than anything but it was the passion that kept them going. When Cerie arrived back from her travels, she suddenly changed her mind about becoming a Centurion. Even though becoming one would be a great feat, she wanted to work in an institute, seeing the excitement that she knew was out there. It seemed that the Angel was working in her favor because she and Isaac both got placed at the New York Institute. Working with the Institute was more rewarding than Cerie ever expected. She got to use her seraph blade, her favorite weapon aside from the thin dagger she kept sheathed on her hip, and interacted with a myriad of different people. As she matured and experienced more of the things life had to offer, she realized that if someone cared about her enough, they would listen to her problems. Thankfully, she began to slowly confide in her friends when it came to her issues. It was hard but she felt better to get the advice they offered.
The bad thing about settling into routine was that it could be taken away without a moment’s notice. Cerie was working as hard as she ever had and was moving forward with Isaac. The pair even talked about getting married, something Cerie never imagined for herself. Cerie was happy to have something real and personal to fight for. That peace got ripped away from her suddenly. Isaac was out on a mission, a dangerous one involving a nasty demon infestation. A miscalculated step and the demon attacked Isaac as the rest of the Shadowhunters dealt with their own battle against the creatures. By the time the battle was over, the demon venom had weakened Issac slightly. He would’ve survived, if it wasn’t for the revenant that was lurking in the old building. The revenant attacked Isaac, leaving him near death by the time the rest of the team found him. After spending a few hours in the infirmary at the Institute, he died. Cerie lost her wits when she found out. She knew the risks of loving someone in the world they lived in but couldn’t think of losing someone. She lost him roughly six months ago and she hasn’t been the same. She’s resorted to hardly speaking to others, hardly eating, hardly existing. She moves through the paces of life as numb as ever. She claims she’s okay but she still wears a visible mourning rune for Isaac. Despite the brave face she puts on, she’s truly lost. She’s been tempted to return to Idris and even thought about taking Yin fen to take away the pain. Although Cerie thinks no one sees through her façade, it’s obvious she’s not okay. She's isolated herself from most people and keeps a tight rein on her emotions.