Blood. The smell of it, the sight of it, the feel of it, was everywhere. But none of the blood staining his designer clothes was his own, it all belonged to the tiny creature lying cradled in his long, elegant arms. From her paler than normal face, two violet cat eyes shone, and her black, blood-matted hair stood out in sharp relief from her colorless skin. Tears mixed with the blood flowing from the gaping wound across her chest, the tears of the warlock who was holding her to him, whispering reassurances to her over and over again, a note of uncontrolled hysteria in his voice. "Nellie, you'll be fine. It'll be okay." he said, frantically attempting to heal the wound with his magic, but nothing would work.
The girl smiled weakly. "It's okay, Magnus. Hush, hush." She said, disguising the pain with calm, with acceptance.
"Damn it, Nelphara! Don't give up on me!" Magnus said, tears falling from his amber-green eyes.
She wiped the tears away, the weak smile still on her face. "You've been a better brother than I could ever ask for, ever deserve. You've given me everything, so I'm asking one more thing of you," she coughed, "Hold on for me. You'll be okay, I promise. I-I love you, Magnus…" He words trailed off, her breath coming in a few more shallow gasps as Magnus sobbed and pleaded. Finally, the bloodied hand resting on his cheek fell, limp, and her striking eyes closed for the last time, his name the last word on her lips.
It felt like hours as he sat there, her limp body pressed to his chest, sobbing and begging, until, finally, there was a hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "Magnus…." Jace trailed off. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He could only stare, stare at the blood, at the limp body in Magnus's arms. And remember Max. Small, fragile Max, who lad lain limp in his mother's arms. Little, innocent Max. It wasn't until then than Jace realized that Max was much like Nelphara, in Magnus's eyes. Small, innocent, fragile.
Finally, Jace walked away, unable to look at that limp body anymore. He'd forgotten why he had walked over there in the first place. Even when he had walked away, away from the carnage of the battle, all he could see was the bloodied body in the warlock's arms. And strangely, he could feel some presence, as if something was following him. He looked around, but there was no one, nothing but the wind. He saw his family, all grouped together and pulled Clary into an unexplained embrace, holding onto her, grounding himself. Alec tapped his arm, an expectant look on his face. "Where are Magnus and Nellie?" He asked.
Jace broke down. He hadn't realized how he had cared for Nellie, how much that strange relationship meant to him. He was nearly crying, but he didn't show it. Finally he pointed in the direction he had come from. "Alec," his voice was raw and hoarse, though he didn't know why, "brace yourself."
A look of worry crossed Alec's face. "Is Magnus hurt?" Jace didn't answer, and Alec took of running.
Alec stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw Magnus in the middle of the blood and ichor-soaked field. The sobs were quieter now, but still audible. The limp form of his sister was still pressed to him. The second Alec saw that, he took off running again, tears streaming down his own face. Magnus didn't even look up when Alec arrived. Alec kneeled next to them, and spoke softly, "Magnus, Magnus. Oh, Magnus."
At the sound of his name, said in the voice of the one person he loved more than his now-dead sister, Magnus looked up. "Alec?" Slowly, he released his hold on the dead witch, laying her body gently on the ground. "Alec." He threw his arms around the Shadowhunter, unable to cry anymore.
When Alec returned the embrace, he realized that Magnus was shaking uncontrollably, and it scared him. Was it truly possible to die of sadness? Alec didn't want to know. "Come on, let's go back to the group." Alec said shakily.
"I can't. The three-day vigil is tradition." Magnus answered, still shaking and refusing to take his arms from around Alec.
"Three-day vigil?" Alec asked.
"After a child of Lilith is buried, the witch or warlock they were closest to in life sits by their grave for three days and nights, until their spirit has passed into the other world…" Magnus's voice cracked, as his body found the ability to cry again.
"Alone?"
"Alone."
Rain poured down heavily as Magnus lay the shrouded figure into the muddy grave, murmuring the words that would put her spirit to rest. His movements were strangely cold and calculated, as if all his focus was on what he was doing, like he has trying to forget why he was doing it. When, finally, the body was buried, Magnus settled in next to the grave, watching the rain fall. With a deep, calming breath, he closed his inhuman eyes and let himself fall, limp, onto the ground.
When he opened his eyes, he wasn't the rain-drenched graveyard of the church where he had been seconds before. Words couldn't describe what he saw around him. Except for, of course, the form of his sister standing before him. "Magnus…?" Her voice was disbelieving.
Magnus smiled. "Did you think I'd leave you on your own?"
When, finally, the time for parting came, there were no tears. Aside from the fact that spirits can't cry in the first place, neither of them wanted to. Magnus embraced his sister, then watched her enter the gates of the afterlife, before returning to his own body.
When he returned home to Alec, Magnus was strangely at peace. Not to say he didn't still find himself crying when he's look at the dusty keyboard in the corner, or the smattering of her clothes in his closet, but he knew that Nelphara was happy, where ever she was. He knew she was waiting for him.