"Oh how wrong we were to think immortality meant never dying"
Gerard Way
Magnus had never really lived throughout his eight hundred years of life. He endured. Being the high warlock of New York did not at all help. Life for him was torture. It was pouring salt onto a large seeping wound. It was diving head first into boiling water. It was having a sword stabbed into his chest countless times. Death was divine. Oh, death. How he wished death could take him like the winds carried leaves in autumn. He was used to the passings of his family, his relatives, his friends now. It became ordinary. Something he sometimes waited for. It was cruel to think, yes. But it helped lessen the pain. He did not want to live in this world. He did not want downworlders, warlocks, a damn council, or even Nephilim. He wanted them gone. Erased from his memory. He sighed softly, the noise barely audible. The angel's life was not one he had chosen.
His mind flickered elsewhere and he snapped his fingers, blue sparks carving into the air and disappearing. He thought for a moment then sent the letter watching as it burst into flames. Magnus was currently sitting on the edge of the Empire State building. He made certain he was invisible to the eyes of New Yorkers and the patrols that strolled the sidewalks to uphold safety. His hair no longer held glitter or fancy colors but it remained black. Black, messy, and long. He swung his feet over the city, staring at the bright lights he had gotten so used to. But it wasn't home. Indeed it was not.
From afar it seemed as if everything was silent. Harmonized. Undisturbed. The sky was holding a black picture not lighting with the familiar stars he admired so much. It was strange, how time passed by and how quickly it went. He let his hands droop down slowly so that he could feel the rush of the breeze on his body. His eyelids shut for a mere second and then they were staring at the face of William Herondale. No, he was not really there. It was just Magnus' imagination doing its thing. He saw his pale face, his full crimson lips, his angular jaw, and his blue eyes. Oh, how he loved those baby blues. William was the first shadowhunter he would never truly forget. He did not want to forget him. He was brave and passionate. Strong and confident but broken all the same. A smile spread on his face. He missed William. He had such a tough life, such a difficult beginning. But his ending was fine. Fine without question. When he first arrived at Magnus', his attire wet and his ebony hair damp, Magnus felt his heart beat faster involuntarily. He was a beauty. Nothing even God's disciple would conjure. Will was a heartbroken young boy with long stages ahead of him. So Magnus helped him. He didn't even care about the favors Will proposed to him. He merely wanted to mend his broken pieces. They were similar, William and Magnus. "Black hair and blue eyes..." Magnus mumbled, a bitter grin on his face. "Those features are my downfall."
"I agree. It is the same for me." He nodded his head barely turning to meet the new voice. He already knew it was Tessa. She sat beside him, her long legs touching his gently. She was wearing a lavender gown. The one she had worn on her wedding day with Will. His eyes crinkled. Her long brown hair was the same. Curly. Her orbs were still a shining gray, always curious. She leaned her head against his shoulder and he didn't push her off for they were companions.
"I miss him dearly." She said and he heard the rhythmic beats from her chest. She looked like the same Tessa he had met in the 1880s. The same one who had fallen in love with two beautiful men. The same one who had watched them both perish.
"Good. It is not only I then." He petted the top of her head lightly.
"Do you not miss the old days?" She asked, and he chuckled. She managed a small smile at the sound.
His words tickled her back. "What old days, my Tessa?"
She tugged away from him and met his slitted eyes. "The Mortmain days." Her hands trembled slightly. "Yes, his times were full of hatred and hardship but there was something in the air then, something nostalgic."
Magnus bit his bottom lip. "I never forgot you had a way with words, Theresa. I admit, I miss those days more than anything but we are immortal creatures, destined to live on."
He remembered James Carstairs, the dying drug addict who then became a Silent Brother. He remembered his silvery hair and his never ending kindness. Magnus was not close to Jem but Will was, and that was enough for him. "I despise this age. This generation." Her statement came out with an angry huff.
Magnus pushed his hair away. "This generation is lazy. This generation relies on technology too much; it is rather saddening. Even the Nephilim."
"Even the Nephilim?"
"Yes. They are not as passionate. They are not as courageous. They are not as intelligent."
She hummed in reply. "If you had a choice now, would you live on or die this instant?" He almost laughed. Tessa and her endless questions of curiosity.
"Die." Tessa didn't seem surprised. Her face was wistful, her pink cheeks bright.
"You and I both." She grabbed at his hand. "When Will was dying...on his bed. Why did you not come? It was unusual. I thought you would."
Magnus released a breath. "It was too painful. I told myself that I was used to death but not William Herondale's. He was a special one. I have only cried for two in my life. Will and Alexander." The names made him wince.
"Alexander." Tessa replied. "A Lightwood. I would have never expected you to fall for one. I thought maybe Jonathon-"
Magnus waved his hands in the air furiously. "Jace Herondale means nothing to me. He does not even remind me of Will. He is stubborn and that is all."
Tessa let go of his palm. "That Fairchild girl. She is the only one who reminds me of Will. Strong and loving."
"Clarissa." Magnus said, recalling the freckle faced wonder.
"Jace grew up with the Lightwoods. He might as well be one. He holds the name but not the power." He wrapped his arms around his chest.
"They were children then...such small children. We were once children. Small little things, eh?" Her wild hair was curling at the edges. Her dress flying and revealing her waist. She noticed and her cheeks colored.
"We were all gay then." Was his response.
He whirled and spotted Camille. Her blond hair was piled at the top of her head and her green eyes sparkled skeptically. "Magnus. It has been awhile. Tessa, it is a pleasure." Tessa smiled kindly but Magnus remained in his position.
He regarded her suspiciously and she seemed amused. "What brings you here, darling?" They were not lovers, anymore. They were friends. They both worked for downworlders.
Her eyebrows rose. "You do not know? It is the battle. The battle at the New York Institute. It has risen to a new height." Her tone was urgent.
Tessa stumbled to face her. "What do you mean? A new height?"
"Downworlders are fighting their own kind. Nephilim are playing the desperate dogs they are, not trusting anyone. Even my clan is fighting. It is not only New York but the world at war. London, Tokyo, Somalia, and even parts of Peru."
Magnus had placed a serious expression on his face. His lips tightened. "It is the last one, Camille and Tessa. It is the last."
Tessa cheeks were tear stained. "How do you know?"
"I feel it, love. I feel it."
Camille trudged to them and sat down carelessly. "I have waited so long for this."
Magnus knew what she meant. He agreed. "What must we do?" Tessa asked, worried.
Camille brought a hand to the girl's cheek, emotionless. "We can do nothing. This is the end. We will be gone soon too."
"I thought the day would never come." She whispered and she glanced up at Magnus who was staring at her sympathetically. His eyes were hooded now, a light shade of jade.
He rose to his feet and the two women joined him. "We will fight then. We must be honorable just like those before us."
Camille smiled, a sad smile tinted with the past and present. She knew him more than anyone. "Your brokenness shall heal soon." He nodded, a bit dazed.
Tessa was off to the corner, gazing down at passing taxis and ant sized people. He reached his arms out and embraced her. Camille kissed his forehead, a gesture of peace. "You are a part of me, Tessa. You understand. You too, Camille. May your love never perish." He murmured into her bare shoulder.
Camille's fangs grew to their full length, sharp white teeth displaying. Tessa reached into her belt and pulled out Jem's sword, the one he promised her to have. He focused his energy on the New York Institute and the oval-like portal was made. Camille went first. Then Tessa who looked at Magnus for guidance. He sucked in a shaking breath and then stepped through.
The war was like nothing in all his eight hundred years. There were few swords. Vampires struck wolves as they tumbled to the ground in heaps of blood and torn body parts. The institute stood no longer. It was crumbled, its large white pillars destroyed. Glass covered the grounds. Walls were plastered with crimson. Automatons were there, he noticed with a jerk. The killing robots were slashing through shadowhunters like paper. Camille sprang into action, crushing the metal object with her fist. She ran circles around it, her speed impeccable. She struck again and it finally fell, buzzing lightly. She saw him staring and winked. His eyes widened, his slits almost disappearing from view. "Camille! Camille!" He screamed helplessly but that did not stop the wolf from sinking its claws in her chest. He heard her as she yelped, the sound so quiet. And then she slumped to the ground, her green eyes still open.
Magnus flew to the damn wolf and threw a dagger at its leg, watching as the animal stumbled to the ground howling. He searched for Tessa but could not see her. He listened to the cries of shadowhunters. The grandchildren of great names. His blade was lighting up distantly, slashing and hacking at any beast who targeted him. His energy was going away, little by little but he did not care. This was his last fight. Valentine was nothing. Sebastian was nothing. Mortmain was nothing. This war was beyond control. He saw downworlders pour into the institute's broken down doors, their numbers too many.
"Magnus!" Tessa was on the ground, her dress bloody. He staggered to her, his chest no longer beating, but waiting. She called to him again and he concentrated on putting a protective wall around them. His breathing became ragged. The wall would not last long. His stamina was deteriorating. Her face was white. Her breasts were falling and rising rapidly. "I-I will go meet them." She said weakly.
Magnus swallowed back a sob. He never cried. He would show no fragility. "Who?" He realized his bottom lip was trembling.
"Will. Jem. Everyone I long to be with. Meet me there, will you?" And the hand he so tightly held went limp like a doll. The wall was gone too. He didn't even try to stand. He could not. He knew he would not strike again. He did not want to.
His mind conjured up Alexander Lightwood. His short ebony hair and his electric eyes. The softness of his voice. The firmness of his love. "You could give me the past," he said a little sadly. "But Alec is my future." He repeated the same words he had said to Camille years ago. Alexander was his beam of light. Profound and intelligent. Gentle but strong. Magnus smiled, a tear escaping his eye. Two hundred years had passed since Alec had died but in his heart, it felt like hours. Minutes perhaps.
Then Jace Herondale though he did not know why. And Clarissa. They were smiling at him, their grins stupid and silly. Their love was forever made. Forever kept.
Isabelle and Simon. Simon who had died just a few years after becoming a shadowhunter leaving the tall girl alone and desperate. She herself had gotten in a fit of rage and sadness, fighting demons until she fell. They were away. Two hundred years far away.
Then Camille and Ragnor Fell. Camille he had fallen in love with. Ragnor Fell he befriended. Camille's hair was braided and she looked happy, her eyes searching his. Ragnor was waving his green hand. His white hair flew around his face.
Catarina Loss. Her blue skin was brilliant, pure orbs shining. His closest friend.
What were they all doing here? He wondered wildly, his head whipping at all their faces. His mouth was open, his dagger somewhere he did not know. His eyes pouring with tears he did not know he still held. Alexander stepped closer to him, reaching his arms to him. "Come on, Mags. It's been too long." It was all that easy.
He crawled slowly to him like a child and then rose just as something bashed against his back. He shouted, loud and fearful for the first time in his life. Blood soaked his white shirt. Then a wolf was atop him, razor-edged nails stabbed into his shoulders. He heard Alexander calling to him. Calling to him loudly. "Magnus. Let go."
Tessa was there too, standing beside Will and Jem. They looked happy. Will pointed to Alec. "He needs you. Join us. We waited much too long, Bane."
William laughed then, his coal colored hair shaking. "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."
Magnus met his eyes. "A Tale of Two Cities."
William nodded and pressed a kiss to Tessa's cheek.
"You are all here." Magnus muttered, knowing that his heart was already beating less. It was getting harder to breathe.
Alec shook his head, amusement on his face. "Magnus. You suffered too much. Come, love. Share our joy."
And Magnus finally shut his eyes. His pain was tugged away. He lied there, waiting. Waiting in darkness. Then Alexander was embracing him. He was walking with all of them. His family. His life was long and miserable. But here, it was all real. Real and beautiful indeed.