Author's Note:

Hi all! Thanks for taking the time to read my story. I hope you will enjoy it. Please review too. I like to hear your thoughts. (Nice ones, preferably.)

I will try and post a new chapter every other day. :)

Now finale to the shore
Now land and life, finale and farewell
Now voyager, depart
Much, much for thee is yet in store
- Walt Whitman

1. Jem

Tuesday, October 23, 1877

Jem sighed as he pulled his sword out of the demon. He could feel his joints starting to ache – the first sign of withdrawal from the yin fen. He hated being weakened by it. He was a Shadowhunter; he was meant to be stronger than this. He always pretended that he was all right and had come to terms with his illness but in truth, he felt broken and was disgusted at his brokenness. He hid how he truly felt because he did not like people fussing over him.

Jem looked over to see what his best friend Will was up to. He saw that he had already killed his demon and was currently playing with its tentacles, using two long sticks to tie them into knots.

"Will, stop that," Jem said, putting in the requisite sternness that his friend would expect. "The demon is dead. There's no need to…"

Before he could finish his sentence, the two demons dematerialised in a puff, their bodies turning into dust and their energies returning to the demon realms, wherever that may be.

"They're gone," Will announced.

"Yes, I see that," Jem concurred. "We should be getting back. Charlotte would worry. She sent us to buy those herbs ages ago. We said we would be home for dinner."

"She'll understand that we ran into some trouble. Headlong, as a matter of fact," Will said, grinning.

Jem could not help but grin too as he remembered the events of the evening. After the two boys had purchased the herbs, they decided to race each another back to the Institute. Jem was winning as Will had been carrying the parcel. Then Will shouted to Jem to turn the next corner as it was a shortcut back home. Jem believed him, as he always did, and did as he was asked. That was when they crashed full on into the two tentacled demons.

When Shadowhunters crash into demons, neither side asks questions. The two boys immediately whipped out weapons – Will his daggers, Jem his sword-cane – and attacked.

There was nothing extraordinary about the fight, although the tentacles made things a little more complicated. But that, as Will said, was part of the fun of it. What fun would it be to encounter human-shaped demons, after all?

When it was all over, Jem gathered up the bits of herbs that had fallen from the parcel Will threw away when he saw the demons. The parcel itself was covered in ichor which was burning through the brown paper. "These herbs are worthless now," Jem muttered. "What a waste."

Will pulled a face like he could not care less. "Leave them then," he said. He walked over and gave his friend a slap on the shoulder. "I'm too full of energy to go home right now. I think I will go down to the Devil Tavern. I am in need of some mayhem."

"Will…" Jem began but his friend had already bounded off. "Don't start anything!" he called after him, knowing that his friend was already out of earshot. He sighed again. Will was another trial in his life. It was exhausting trying to keep up with him.

Jem picked up a piece of the brown paper that was still clean and carefully wiped his sword with it. When he was satisfied, he cast the paper aside and sheathed his sword.

As he made his way out of the alley, he decided that it would do him some good to go for a walk as well before returning home. The streets of London were quieter at eight o'clock at night and the slight chill in the air soothed his soul.

He wandered down towards his favourite spot, Blackfriars Bridge. The huge and heavy-looking bridge was deserted. Not many people liked to pass it by during their walks. It was, after all, an ugly structure. But that was part of why Jem liked it.

He made his way to the middle where he knew he could climb up on the parapet and sit, overlooking the river. By the time he got there, his limbs were aching badly and the pain in his joints reaching his limits of endurance. He gritted his teeth and forced his mind to concentrate on something else other than the pain. He wanted some more moments of normality, then he would go home and take his medicine.

However, luck was not his side. He had no sooner reached the middle of the bridge than he felt something catch inside his body. A bolt of excruciating pain shot through him, forcing him to his knees and making him double over onto the pavement. His lungs felt as though they were closing up and his heart pounded as though it was about to burst out of his chest. The coughing began, so strong that he could not breathe. He tasted the salty bitterness of blood in his mouth, saw it as it spurted out of him and onto the pavement.

He had bad attacks of illness before but it was never as bad as this. He curled onto his side on the pavement, unable to keep himself upright any longer. It was getting harder for him to draw breath and his surroundings swam before his eyes. Through the haziness, he thought he saw a figure standing under the lamp at the side of the bridge. He tried to raise his arm, but could barely manage to twitch his fingers.

"Help me," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, help me."

The figure slowly moved towards him, the person kneeling down beside him and saying something. But Jem heard and saw nothing as he slipped into unconsciousness and the world turned black around him.