The summary sucks, I'm usually good at summaries but I literally just threw in the first one I thought of. Oops.
So, I finished CoHF and sue me for thinking this...But, I think it would be interesting if Clary lost the War for the Shadowhunters.
Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all the characters but I just decided to twist up her story, heh.
The first little bit is a snippet from CoHF, I changed it a little though.
Chapter 1: The Path to Change
"It is done. The path between the worlds are closed."
Sebastian wasn't smiling, but he looked—incandescent. As if he were blazing. The circle of runes on the floor was shimmering with blue fire. He ran toward the platform, took the steps two at a time, and reached up to catch Clary's hands; she let him draw her down from the throne, until she stood in front of him. He was still holding her. His hands felt like bracelets of fire around her wrists. "You accept it," He said, "You accept your choice?"
"I accept it," she said, forcing herself to look at him with absolute directness, rather than looking at her loved ones who stared in shock. "I do."
"Then kiss me," he said. "Kiss me like you love me."
Her stomach tightened. She had been expecting this, but it was like expecting a blow to the face: Nothing could prepare you. Her face searched his; in some other world, some other time, some other brother was smiling across the grass at her, eyes as green as springtime. She tried to smile. "In front of everyone? I don't think-"
"We have to show them," he said, and his face was as immovable as an angel pronouncing a sentencing. "That we are unified. Prove yourself, Clarissa."
She leaned toward him, he shivered. "Please," she said. "Put your arms around me."
She caught a flash of something in his eyes—vulnerability, surprise at being asked—before his arms came up around her. He drew her close; she laid one hand on his shoulder. The other hand slid down to her waist, where Heosphoros rested with its scabbard tucked into the belt of her gear. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck. His eyes were wide; she could see his heartbeat, pulsing in his throat.
"Now, Clary," he said, and she leaned up, touching her lips to his face. She felt him shudder against her as she whispered, her lips moving against his cheek.
"Hail, master," She said, and saw his eyes widen, just as she pulled Heosphoros and brought it up in a bright arc, just about to pierce through him—
Sebastian gasped, and spasmed in her arms for a fraction of a moment. He pushed her, just as she was about to dive the blade into his chest, she hit the arm of the ivory and gold throne with force. Clary heard the others cry out, and Sebastian laugh.
"I should have known." Sebastian whispered, looking back at Jace who stood in shock, then back at the figure lying on the ground. Clary's red hair hid her face, but through the strands she saw Sebastian whisper something to Amatis, who then walked out a nearby door. He began to approach his sister, eyes fixed on the blade beside her, glowing dim as an ember.
If it weren't for Alec holding Jace back, he would have gone out of control. The plan didn't work; he was so certain, so certain that this time they were one-step ahead.
"Little Sister, you will rule with me. You will be my Queen, I will be your King. We will rule Edom, even if it means I vow to not kill your pesky little friends." Sebastian's voice as hard as a rock. Clary breathing steadied, she rolled over to face her brother's face, her green eyes disobediently gazing to the corner where her loved ones stood in horror. A pale hand suddenly pulled her chin back to the brother that should be dead, their eyes met.
"You may not enjoy it at first, Clarissa, but you will grow to love me, to love ruling Hell." Sebastian's dark eyes gazed over the ripped red clothing that Clary wore, then at the other Endarkened who circled the room. "Take our unwanted guests away, show them their new homes." Clary's body froze as she watched Jace look back at her, before being pushed away by a man in red.
Sebastian circled Clary's throne, thinking. Clary found it strange that someone as wicked as him could take this long to think of his next move. She tried to look strong, not to show any sign of emotion. She prayed that her loved ones were all right, that they weren't hurt. What did he mean by 'their new homes'? She couldn't care less about her situation, she thought of everyone in Idris, would they be dead by now? It's all her fault, she should have been more careful.
"I've made up my mind," Sebastian stopped pacing, staring at her sister like a starving child looking at a piece of bread. "I know for a fact that you wont do as I say. The only way to get you on my side is to do what I'm about to do."
Clary froze as Sebastian reached to his waist and pulled out a bronze dagger, he held the tip to his palm and slit it open. Blood trickled onto the marble floor, like a blossoming rose against the snow.
"The cup, Amatis." He said, Amatis approached her master holding the midnight black Infernal Cup.
Clary froze, her fists clenched and her lips sealed shut.
A single drop of Sebastian's blood fell into the cup, he let out a noise, a hint of a laugh. He then forced the cup at Clary, its rims touching her chapped lips.
A hand enveloped her throat and as she gasped from the sudden attack, the cups contents were forced down her throat.
Six Months Later
Edom is no longer a dead realm; it feels alive, the clouds feeding off the souls of the rebels that risked their lives trying to stand up against the Dark ruler.
Alicante is no longer, only few Institutes stand, but they are all empty. After the Alternate 'Dark' Idris in the Demon Realm was vacated by captured Shadowhunter's, Sebastian felt the need to no longer hunt for more of the Angel offspring in the Human world, he had his people, he had his army, and he had his Clary.
The Endarkened roam the streets, carrying weapons, ready to kill anyone out of place. The Shadowhunters that haven't been turned are used for slave work, Sebastian found that the Endarkened are too easy control, he likes it better when people fight back, and are tough to push around. All Downworlders that survived the Dark Revolution are also used as slaves; they do the more dirty work.
Edom's Idris is now the only Idris.
It had been a long time since Clary stepped outside her tower in the Dark Gard, she wasn't allowed to until Sebastian was certain she was fit to rule beside him. He wasn't patient; she'd take tests where he'd ask her questions based on the history of Hell, on the bad rather than the good. He'd make her summon Greater Demons, and let them attack her if she didn't get them under control. Sebastian trained her, made her fight the Endarkened, when she was hurt she was to heal like a Mundane.
Scars and bruises painted her arms and legs, she was barely recognizable as the fragile Clary that was known six months ago.
It reminded her of Repunzel, trapped up in a tower waiting for someone to come rescue her. She was sick of waiting, Jace is probably dead, and she had accepted that long ago. She knew of the Shadowhunters inhabiting Edom, along with Downworlders, only some of the Shadowhunters being turned into Endarkened.
Clary looked into the oval mirror on the bluestone bricked wall, it was daylight yet so dim. Her hair had turned darker, she realized, more black than red. She wondered if it was the blood of Sebastian, changing her like this.
The blood hadn't worked at first, she's too strong. Her blood, more good than bad. It was Valentines doing, it granted her the gift of runes. This gift slowly faded away after day after day of drinking small doses of Demon Blood.
Every time she had even a droplet of the blood she tried to cough it up, hopefully getting it out of her system. It never worked, she's slowly turning bad and she can't help it.
So, she looked at herself. Her hair dark red and long, her lips pale and her skin looking as if she had never been in the sun. Her eyes no longer bright green. She looked at the dress she wore, the black, gothic style of it made what the red—what's left of it—in her hair stand out against her white skin. She had grown used to the corsets and Victorian style gowns, handpicked by her brother.
It made her sick, how he could control her yet her consciousness was still intact.
Her room was fairly big, her queen sized bed draped in silk and lace, all wood was black and all fabrics were red and white. It made her think of Isabelle, she missed her yet the pain of loss is no longer as the good in Clary started to fade.
Clary's skin was clear of any Marks, she was to create Runes, not use them.
A knock on the door woke Clary from her daze, she turned and spoke clearly.
"Come in." Her voice showed no sign of pain; the pain was all in her head.
The bronze doorknob turned slowly, and the large door was pushed open. In the doorway stood a woman, a woman that Clary didn't know the name of yet this woman was virtually her servant.
"Your eminence, Lord Sebastian is waiting for you in the throne room." The woman bowed, her blonde hair up in a bun.
"How many times have I to say that you should call me Clarissa rather than all these other synonyms for 'Your Highness'?" Clary never understood why Sebastian made everyone talk like they belonged in the Victorian Era. The trend imprinted itself on Clary, she was forced to speak that way; she didn't know how, but when she went to say something, it came out that way.
"At least once more, Miss. As always." She nodded her head and hurried out of the room, not closing the door behind her.
Clary sighed, pulling her red wine colored hair onto one shoulder, and began to walk slowly out her door.
The Soldiers held a careful eye on Jace, as he carved oak wood into stakes. The perfect weapon for killing rebel Vampires. Jace's golden hair was wet with mud and sweat. The workplace was big and loud, there were four workplaces in Dark Alicante, two for Shadowhunters, one for Vampires and one for Lycanthropes. Sebastian put little effort into these work environments, a workplace was one single hall made out of stone. Little ventilation and light made it hard to work, hard to breathe.
They were rarely fed, no one could afford food. If you worked hard enough, or were good at what you did, you'd get a quartz stone, the size of a fingernail. One could buy a family a decent feed, but it was uncommon.
No one could ever of thought that Sebastian would manage to create a whole new system in six months, a working city. A City of unfortunate souls.
"Stand." A voice echoed throughout the workplace, all Shadowhunter's stood. Everyone was young, those who were too old were unworthy of Sebastian's time, and so they were killed right on arrival to Edom. Everyone lost a loved one, only a few adults were worthy of staying alive.
An Endarkened Soldier stood at the only entrance and exit of the workplace, his red armor stood out against the grey environment.
"We rise to the Darkness, we gnaw at the Light. We bow to our Rulers, for them we fight." The Lieutenant called, the Nephilim repeated after the Soldier in a chorus of murmurs. They bowed. "You are dismissed."
In single file lines, row by row the Shadowhunters filed out the door, spreading throughout the dark town.
Clary entered the throne room from the back door, behind the large gold and ivory thrones; she walked around the left slowly, making a presence at the front of the dais.
"My Princess." Sebastian stood, he wore a maroon tuxedo and his hair was slick behind his head.
Clary bowed, not on her own, it's Sebastian's presence what made her do it. The further away from him, the more she could act like herself. But, with the strict security around the Dark Gard it could be difficult to escape.
"Sit, Clarissa. It is time you finally rule with me."
Is that it? She asked herself, she always thought that there would be some kind of coronation, or ceremony of sorts. Clary obediently sat on her throne, cupping her own hands in a tight bundle.
Her voice found itself; she was able to speak now.
"Brother, why is it you have let me sit upon my throne?"
"You've been obedient, Clarissa. You've consumed the blood of Lilith so many times so I have decided that you are worthy of my trust." Sebastian said, not facing her, instead he faced the double doors that allowed entry and exit from the room. "Your eyes are getting darker, no longer that horrid shade of green. Your hair too." He spoke under his breath, the last part hit Clary.
She was turning into one of his kind.
End of Chapter 1
A/N: That was that.
Unlike my other plots in my other stories, I'm not too sure about this one. So, please tell me if you want me to keep going.
This story will be somewhat intense, and it will be straight to the point if you guys want it to be.
I'll post the next chapter if I get some feedback, it would make my day to see your reviews x
Love it or hate it, tell me ;)
-E