Goodbye

by fictionfandomaniac

Isabelle Lightwood has everything she could ever want. That is, until newly-ascended Simon gets sent away to the London Institute to train. At first everything is fine, but then Simon's letters stop coming. It's terrible irony, isn't it? That she, heartbreaker extraordinaire, gets left behind.

1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters! They belong to Cassandra Clare

-Simon-

"I hereby swear:

I will be Raziel's sword, extending his arm to strike down evil,

I will be Raziel's Cup, offering my blood to our mission,

I will be Raziel's mirror; when my enemies behold me, let them see his face in mine."

Jia looked at him expectantly. Her scarlet robes were the color of blood under the light.

Blood. Even though he was no longer a vampire, the thought of it still made his mouth water. His memories were returning to him, slowly, fuzzy outlines of what had been. Simon remembered the feeling of his teeth sinking into a neck, followed by intoxicating taste of blood. he remembered Izzy, her blood sweeter than anybody else's…

"Well?"

Jia's sharp voice shook Simon out of his memories.

For a panicked second, he couldn't remember the rest of the oath. If he forgot it now, he wouldn't become a Shadowhunter. Then he saw Isabelle's face before him, calmly reading it out to him. She smiled at him, and he knew that she trusted him completely, that she knew that he could do this. And just like that, he remembered.

"I hereby promise:

I will serve the angel's courage,

I will serve the angel's justice

And I will serve the angel's mercy.

Until such time as I shall die, I will be Nephilim. I pledge myself in Covenant as a Nephilim, and I pledge my life and my family to the Clave of Idris."

"Then drink."

Simon's hands trembled slightly as Jia handed him the Mortal Cup. He knew this was the dangerous part of the ritual. He knew that if he was unworthy, it would kill him. And, somehow, he knew that he would survive.

He brought the cup to his lips.

A cold, blue-white light rose up to surround him, or more specifically, him and Jia. For a second, he thought he saw a smile flicker in the corner of her lips. Then the light died down, and her face resumed its usual stone-like expression.

"You are a Nephilim now." Jia's voice echoed across the Council room. "I name you Simon Nighthawk, of the blood of Jonathan Shadowhunter, child of the Nephilim. Arise, Simon.