This story is dedicated to Cennis, who, when I told her the idea, asked me to write it out. Happy Birthday, sweetie~

Warnings: This is a Malec Fanfic, which means SLASH, M/M, YAOI, BOY LOVE. If that bothers you, leave now.

This fanfic will have a sex scene, violence, and even death later on (reason for the M rating). If that bothers you, leave now.

This is also going to be a VERY LONG story; it's going to have four parts, and each part is going to have AT LEAST ten chapters, and each chapter is going to be AT LEAST ten pages long. If you don't think you don't like long fanfics, you've been warned.

Also, a side pairing in this story is Simon/Clary; I'm warning everyone ahead of time, in case someone has a really trouble with the pairing. It's only a side pairing, hardly will get much attention, much less a kiss or something. But I know it's annoying sometimes when you are reading a fanfic you really like and a pairing you can't stand appears. Although there will be hints of POTENTIAL Jace/Clary (meaning, if the situation the characters were in was different, then they would be together), Simon/Clary will be a pairing in this fanfic, from Chapter 01 to the end. Can't stand the pairing and it would ruin your reading experience? Leave now.

Finally, and I think this was obvious, this is an AU fanfic. Hate AUs? Leave now.

Disclaimer: I do not own Mortal Instruments… If I did, Alec would be the main character of the series, 'cause I just love him so much.

Truth's Shadow

..::Part I: Accelerando::..

~Chapter 01~

The sun shone bright, its rays reaching farther beyond the horizon, creating a dark contrast between that which the light touched and that which was shielded from it. All around buildings with peeked roofs and stained glassed windows stood tall and proud. The old, gray, cracked stones that formed the foundation of the building were laced with dead ivy plant, making the place look as old as it actually was. Yet, the city still seemed strong; the age not taking away its brilliant glory. There was no doubt that those stone walls could still endure twice the number of years it had stood.

The trees were frozen in an eternal spring; its vibrant flowers had been blooming since the beginning of times, and they would continue bloom two eternities from now. There were greens and blues and purples and pinks and whites in the garden; and every time the wind blew petals would fly through the air in a magical dance. The petals were never ending, no matter how many fell, more seemed to grow in their place almost instantly.

Once feathers as colorful as these petals would have been seen all around Alicante; the laughter of its citizens bringing warmth, peace, and comfort to those around. Alas, times have changed, and the streets of the proud city now stood empty, their crystal flooring reflecting nothing but the low mist that never seemed to quite fade. Alicante was no home; the sacred realm of Idris had now but three purposes: a military base, the station for The Clave, and temporary quarters for those who had been severely injured in the War. No Shadowhunter, given the choice, would spend the little spare time they had in the city. What was once a sight of beauty, capable of only being described by the masters of prose, now seemed to create the perfect harmony between the sinister and the melancholic.

Even the mystical sound of the bells could not diminish the somber tension inside the Court. The judge sat proudly on his bench, looking at the chained man with subdued rage. To his right stood the Silent Brothers; Shadowhunters from The Clave that had left the building to watch the trial. To his left, a man and a woman, both dark of hair, belonging to the same Shadowhunting Branch, looked at the man being accused of the most horrendous crime a Shadowhunter could possibly commit with cold and almost emotionless eyes; though if one looked deep enough, it was possible to see disgust and betrayal.

Isabelle, also dark of hair, tried her best to stay composed, though she could not completely duplicate Maryse's, her former teacher, strong and yet graceful stance; for although Isabelle had been considered a fully-fledged and initiated Shadowhunter for centuries, the other female Shadowhunter still had many years of experience that the, still young for their people, girl would need to wait to acquire. Still, she tried her best to look professional, determined not to allow anyone to look down at her just because she was the youngest in the room. She was a Shadowhunter of the Lightwood Branch, a fine warrior who had never failed a mission, or allowed any harm to come to her Charges. As such, she deserved all the respect they could give.

And so, Isabelle looked straight to the judge's eyes, her voice detailing word for word what she had witnessed; no doubt a repeat of what Jace had already testified. She glance down, for less than a second after her story was finished, and was able to catch some of her pink aura through the mist as it was reflected in the crystal floor. It had been at least three decades since she last saw her own complete reflection in a mundane mirror, and even longer, far longer, since she saw it through the ever brilliant grounds of Alicante. Back then the sacred realm could still be called a home, and Isabelle was young and naïve, thinking that nothing, not even the laws that bound her kind, could stop Shadowhunters from living the perfect eternal life. Back then Jace, Alec, and herself would jest around the yards, laughing and boasting about the demons they had killed.

Now it was all but a faded memory, as elusive as the mist that twirled around her ankles.

She stepped back and looked at Jace's golden orbs. Like her, he seemed unease, eager to leave this place and do something… Anything. Yet he also desired to be seen with the respect and dignity, for not only was he an incredibly talented Shadowhunter, he was the last of the Wayland Branch, most of his kin lost to the War. He tried his best not to shift his weight from one foot to the other, though that only resulted in his restlessness being released through nervous fingers that moved nonstop, as if trying to grasp an invisible sword. Both wanted to leave at that moment, yet neither dared to do so before such order was given. That was, after all, what was expected of a respectable and competent soldier… Of a Shadowhunter.

"Due to the evidence provided by Isabelle of the Shadowhunter Lightwood Branch, and Jace of the Shadowhunter Wayland Branch, I find the accused guilty of the highest treason possible." His voice rang loud, echoing through the building like the bells of minutes ago "For multiple interactions with the Downworlder enemies and the attempt to end the life of you Charge, Magnus Bane, I declare that Hodge of the Shadowhunter Starkweather Branch shall be executed immediately."

After those words were spoken, one of the Silent Brothers stepped forward with a sword. Isabelle could not help but feel slightly nervous. She had never seen one of those before, but she always imagined it would stand out as opposed to the weapons the other Shadowhunters used on a regular basis; yet there was absolutely nothing that helped her tell that sword apart from all the other ones she had seen during her long life. Jace showed preference to swords, and that sword, the sword that would take Hodge's life, looked and felt no different than one of Jace's own.

That scarred her more than she would ever admit.

When the chained Shadowhunter was forced down to his knees, the mist lifted with the impact before wrapping itself around Hodge's body and floating back down. Robert then proceeded to walk behind the man, pick up some of the chains that bound his hands back, pulling it as tight as he could, forcing the other to open his chest wide.

After she grabbed the sword, not without respectfully bowing towards the Silent Brother, Maryse repositioned herself so she was facing Robert, Hodge kneeled between them. Isabelle saw him lift his head, and although there was acceptance of his fate, she could have sworn she saw something else in his eyes… Was it amusement? Maybe Hodge had finally given in to insanity, brought forth by the War… Why else would he betray them?

"Any last words, Downworlder?"

Hodge remained silent.

It took less than a second; one moment the sword was by Maryse' side, and in the next it had penetrated Hodge just below the ribcage, the point peeking out from the other side of his body. His eyes widen just slightly as the sword broke skin, and shortly after his chin was no longer held high in pride and defiance.

Isabelle noticed first the blood that dripped from his lips rather than the one from the wound. It must have not been long, but it felt like an eternity. She saw the light in his eyes die; it's true color fading until both irises were as black as the night sky. When her gaze shifted towards the wound, she found that the sword was still in place. Blood was staining his Shadowhunter tunic; the thin fabric being weighted down by the dense, red liquid.

When the sword was removed, not a second after it was thrust inside now dead Shadowhunter, Isabelle noticed that the blood from Hodge's body slowly made its way down to the tip of the weapon before dripping on the crystal floor. The mist seemed to know the exact moment a drop would fall, for it cleared the way for it just enough not to be tainted by it. She gazed back at Hodge's body; Robert's strong hold on the chains the only thing keeping it in place.

Isabelle watched all of this with fascination… It was the first time she had ever seen a Shadowhunter being killed… And she honestly hoped it would be the last.

Robert's face when he let go of the chains was a mask of pure indifference. The body fell forward, the mist parting just as it did with the blood. He fell faced down, blood still pouring, still thin enough to form a red puddle on the crystal floor. The mist moved again, and now it hovered over the body, as it didn't exist.

Maryse carefully cleaned the blade before giving it to the Silent Brother who had first handed it to her. Just like that the trial and execution was over, and the Shadowhunter of the Starkweather Branch was no more.

"Isabelle of the Shadowhunter Lightwood Branch, and Jace of the Shadowhunter Wayland Branch, in the name of The Clave, I thank you for your services."

Both young Shadowhunters placed their right hand over their left chest, the left hand behind their back, before dropping down to one knee and bowing respectfully, as according to Shadowhunter custom. Although her eyes were supposed to be closed, Isabelle kept them opened, noticing that some of Hodge's blood was approaching them. She never realized how much blood a Shadowhunter had inside its' body.

They stood up with a grace no human could ever hope to possess, and left without another word, knowing that they were officially dismissed and expected to leave Alicante and the Realm of Idris at once. Just as the doors were about to close, Isabelle heard the judge's annoyed voice as he complained about the fact that they needed to find a new Shadowhunter for Hodge's old Charge as soon as possible.

Magnus Bane was still getting used to his newly acquired fame. That is not to say he did not enjoy the attention; the feeling of being recognized for his music was beyond words in his vast vocabulary. It delighted him that his songs were being enjoyed by thousands of music lovers, that he had inspired so many; and that his name finally, after so much hard work and struggle, meant something to people. No longer was he colorful shadow in the busy streets of New York City! Now, when people looked at him, heard him play, they gave him the recognition he worked so hard to obtain.

Yes, it was nice. Wonderful, even! The best feeling in the world…! But it still took him some time to get used to it. For many years he had been a nobody; someone who busy company workers would sneer at for taking up place in the streets and train stations, Penn Station being one of his favorite spots, to play his songs. To them he was a no good scum who needed to find a real job instead of perusing a hopeless career in the music industry.

Currently he had just returned from his North American tour, the last stop being his home city, the one that never sleeps. After being so long away from home, he desired nothing more but to cuddle up with Chairman Meow, screw if the damn cat actually wanted him or not, and spend some time with his two childhood best friends.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian restaurant at seven at night. He left at an acceptable hour, his hair and makeup with the perfect amount of color and glitter, yet he still found himself twenty minutes late. Magnus calculated the route with precision, taking bus delays into account, for one would be a fool to not do so in the Big Apple. What he did not account for, however, was to be recognized and stopped by anyone on his long journey from his fabulous Brooklyn apartment to the small, yet incredibly fancy, Manhattan restaurant. His fame was newly acquired, and Magnus knew he was still unknown enough to be able to take the bus without much trouble… But apparently he was already famous enough to be stopped once or twice for a picture and an autograph while out in public.

Which is why when he entered the restaurant, he found Clary and Simon were already eating the bread with olive oil and butter that had been placed in their booth at the far right end of the establishment.

"Well, well, well… It seems my dearest friends have already forsaken me in favor of Italian bread, butter and oil, as well as some sparkly beverage full of chemicals, most commonly known as soda." Said he as he sat opposite to the couple "A few months away, and this is the welcome I receive? My, Chairman Meow was more welcoming, and that is saying something."

The restaurant had an old décor, walls painted a dark color with paintings of rivers and forests hanging a few feet apart from each other. The main source of light in the room was a chandelier a few feet away from the wine bar, and each booth had its own light fixture. The chairs and tables were of dark wood and the chair cushions of a deep red, giving the restaurant a cozy feel.

"Dramatic as always, huh?" Clary said "Drop the act, Magnus. We were there when you first arrived in the city, and also watching you during rehearsal."

"How did that go, by the way?" Simon asked, getting yet another piece of bread as Magnus looked over the Menu and asked the waiter for one of their fruity mixed drinks "I mean, what did the guys decide? Is your New York City show cancelled?"

"Cancelled?" Magnus repeated, turning to the young man with glasses and curly black hair "No, of course not! You know business people, complete parasites! They would not cancel a show, it would mean refund, which means losing money."

"Then what did they decide?" asked Clary "Are they changing venues?"

"No, it would be impossible to do so with so little short notice." Magnus shook his head, proceeding to grab a piece of bread for himself "I'm starving, been practicing all day long. Do you already know what you will order?"

"I'm thinking about getting the Fettuccini Alfredo with broccoli…" answered Simon "I heard it's really good. What about you, Clary?"

"I don't know… The portions here seem awfully big, so I was planning on sharing, but…"

"I could share with you." Said Magnus "If you order something good, that is."

"I always order something good." She said "You are the weirdo in the trio, Magnus."

"I object! I find my taste in everything the best that is!" he put a hand to his chest in mock shock "I have the best taste in clothes, music, art…"

"Not true!" Clary said.

"TV shows," he continued as if she had not spoken "Parties, food, books,"

"Now that's not true" Simon objected.

"And, of course, men." He finished, with a teasing smirk.

"Hey! I take offense to that!" Simon protested "I may be the only one into woman, but I think Clary has great taste in men."

"You are hardly competent to judge Clary's taste in men, considering the two of you are engaged." Magnus answered.

"Exactly the reason why my taste in men is better than yours" Clary smiled "I found myself someone who I'll gladly spend the rest of my life with, while you are still sleeping with a different person every night."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Magnus laughed, and soon the other two joined in "Now, come on, let me see the ring."

Clary smiled at her best friend and extended her delicate right hand, showing him the beautiful, yet simple, diamond ring Simon had given to her when he proposed. The thin ring wrapped itself beautifully around the painter's finger, although instead of meeting at the end to form a complete circle, one side raised itself slightly, while the other turned down, forming an oval. Inside of it two sapphire stones rested between a small, yet brilliant diamond.

"Wow… That must have cost you a fortune."

"Well, actually…" Simon started saying, before Magnus interrupted him.

"Oh, no, love, I was talking about Clary's nails." Magnus turned towards the red haired girl "How did you manage to make them look this nice? I mean, they are long, seem strong, and the polish doesn't seem to be fading away, even you deal with turpentine."

"I don't paint with oil that often, Magnus, I find that I enjoy pastel, or watercolor and ink much better for my illustrations… Or Photoshop, that also works… But when I do paint with oil, I use gloves." The woman said, rolling her eyes "You could have nice nails to, if you let them grow a bit."

"My nails look fabulous the way they are, thank you very much." He smiled "Besides, can't play the violin with long nails. Doesn't work well, God knows I tried." He shook his head, before turning back to Simon "But seriously, how much did it cost? I mean… How many stories did you have to write before you could afford it?"

"More than I care to imagine." Simon sighed "There are not many magazines that print short stories and pay a good sum of money, and I'm still trying to get an agent that will allow me creative freedom when writing my books."

"Is it that tough?" Magnus asked, frowning.

"Like you said, business people are parasites." Simon sighed "All they care is the number of sales, not the quality of the product or the creative effort in it. Right now Supernatural Romance for Young Adults is the big thing; as long as there is a hot male lead and a special yet ordinary female character, no one cares about prose, plot, character development, or conflict."

"It would be easier to self-publish, that would give Simon enough creative freedom to do what he wants, but those books don't sell nearly as much as we hope." Clary sighed "I'm doing well, my art work gives us enough money to live in the apartment, and conventions are great money makers, Comic Con especially, but…"

"It's not the money you are after." Magnus nodded.

"Money is what we need to live." Simon shook his head "What I really want is to tell my stories, allow my creativity to flow and be appreciated for it, like you do with your violin and Clary with her arts."

"But no one will give him a chance." Clary said "No market for it, they said… Even though Simon's work is excellent, and he has many online fans, agents still turn him down."

"They'll take me if I sell out." He said "Which, of course, I won't. But it's not like they are completely to blame… Lately I haven't got a good idea that could be expanded to the length of a novel."

"Writer's block?" Magnus asked.

"Writer's block." He confirmed with a sigh "For now I'll have to do with short stories in magazines and on the internet, until I come up with something big."

"You'll get there." Magnus smiled "We all start somewhere… Just look at me! I'm a fine example of that!"

The friends laughed, and proceeded to finally look at their menus, realizing they had dismissed the waiter three times already. Simon asked for his fettuccini, and Magnus and Clary, instead of sharing, ordered a dish for each of them, deciding that they would take home the leftovers, since no one in the trio liked to spend they had to work on their craft on cooking something decent.

They laughed, Simon and Clary telling about what Magnus missed during the months he had been away. They told the story of how Simon proposed, and how Chairman Meow, who had been staying at their place, claimed the old arm chair as his personal throne. Magnus told them all about his North American Tour, the cities he had been in, the fans he met, and how once there was this little girl who came to him, and said she started to take her violin lessons seriously because of him; she had told him she had never realized how cool the classical instrument could be in the hands of one who knew what he was doing.

"Making the violin cool again, are you?" Clary asked, smirking "Oh, how grateful we are to be in your remarkable presence, Great Magnus Bane."

"Yes, indeed, you should be proud of yourselves! I do not talk with commoners that often" Magnus laughed.

"You never did answer the question." Simon suddenly said "What have they decided? You know, about the last show in the tour, here in the city."

"Oh, that!" Magnus said "Well, ends up the place where I'm going to play has been advertising the show for a while, so we obviously can't change locations… Plus, there is the whole refund thing. The date was merely pushed back, about a month or so."

"A month?" Simon asked "That's after Comic Con… Why so late?"

"Well, a big light did fell on stage." Clary said "I'd imagine it would take a while to fix everything."

"Exactly. They are also trying to investigate what made the thing fall, almost killing me in a tragic accident." Magnus sighed dramatically "Plus, they decided to use this month window to try and sell more tickets and get the concert sold out."

"They still don't know what caused the light to fall?" Simon asked, frowning.

"Nope." Magnus replied, taking a sip of his drink "No idea at all! It was miracle I was able to move aside so quickly. That thing fell just a few inches away from me!"

"We were there, Magnus." Clary said "It was more like a foot away."

"Like I said, a few inches. If it had fallen on me it would have killed me for sure!"

"That would certainly bring bad publicity to the place." Simon says "Violinist Magnus Bane killed by spot light during rehearsal!"

"It would have been all over the news." Clary agrees "A good way to go, for someone who loves attention as much as you."

"Oh, Clary, why must you be so mean to me?" said the violinist "Anyways, now that we are on that subject, I would like to invite the two of you to a party this weekend!"

"A party?" Simon asked "What for?"

"Well, I had already planned on throwing a party this weekend after the tour was completely over, but now it' a party to celebrate my victory over Death! You'll be coming, right?"

"Of course we will." Clary said "It's not like we have much of a choice, is it?"

"None at all." Magnus winked, and just in time their food arrived. Magnus raised his glass with a smile "But enough about me and my dance with death! We are here to celebrate this joyous occasion! Clary, Simon, I could not have picked better friends, and to see the two of you engaged after being together for so long… Well, all I can think to say is 'finally', because it has been since forever, I was starting to think you would marry in Vegas in with an Elvis impersonator as your marrying-person, or whatever it's called."

The two friends laughed.

"Anyway… I guess what I can say, Congratulations. You two are perfect together, and I would be lucky to find a man who would love me as half as much as you do each other."

In a city as big as New York, abandoned buildings were not a rare sight. Hotels, homes, restaurants… Even schools would be emptied and forgotten over time, dust and dead animal's carcass found everywhere. The city officials were too busy trying to keep its inhabitants and visitors safe, making sure the public transportation was working to the best of its abilities, and just running the big tourist center to worry about a few empty buildings. As long as they were not a safety hazard, there was no need to address the problem immediately.

Which is why such places, whose only Earthly visitors were animals or the daring teenager, were the perfect place for Shadowhunters to rest whenever they had some free time.

The old gothic church in a residential neighborhood in upper Manhattan had been abandoned for at least twenty years. It's beautiful stain glass windows, with vibrant purples and blue, had been broken many times by rocks thrown by rebellious youth. The brick walls were filled with graffiti, the cobble stone path leading to its heavy wooden doors overgrown with weed. But even though the residents of the area considered it an eyesore, having numerous meetings about to do with the old building, it was one of Isabelle, or Izzy, as she preferred to be called when not in Idris, and Jace's favorite places to be in the city.

The night sun of summer entered through the windows, creating beautiful, and yet eerie, reflections on the interior of the abandoned building. The benches were made of dark wood had a resting place where the faithful would kneel during the service. Some Bibles were still found scattered around the place, its pages yellowed due to lack of care. At the altar was a giant, detailed sculpture of the son of God with his hands nailed to an even bigger cross. His crown of thorns seemed to dig deep in the skin of the statue's face, which expressed all the pain the figure was going through.

There were other sculptures throughout the worshiping place; most noticeably one of the Virgin Mary, with dead flowers at its feet. Long ago, when the church was still functioning, many would go to the statue, kiss its feet and pray for something that they desperately needed. Once the place had been full of silver candlesticks and golden decorations, but they had been stolen years before, by greedy hands that were not weary of the divine punishment of the marble crucified man and his mother.

At this moment the female Shadowhunter was sitting in the back of one of the wooden benches, kicking her feet while talking to the male whom, to her, was the equivalent of Earthlings, or Mundanes, called a brother. The boy was laying down, also in one of the wooden benches, one of his fingers playing with a knife as a high school student would with their pencil. Both were now in Mundane clothes, with black tops exposing their marked arms, heavy combat boots, and dark jeans; if they were visible to Earthling eyes they would look like regular teenagers.

"I never thought it would look so ordinary." Izzy said "I mean, it really didn't feel any different than a regular Shadowhunter sword, did it?"

"Forget a Shadowhunter sword, it felt no different than Mundane one!" Jace said, looking at the girl "It looked so ordinary, too! No stone encrusted handle, or diamond sharp blades, or…"

"Diamond sharp blades?" she raise an eyebrow "Really?"

"Hey, it's one of the most powerful weapons in the universe! I thought it would be made of all precious gems and shit." The blond defended himself.

"But that makes it even more scary, doesn't it?" she shook her head "I mean, what if the Downworlders have one? They may use it in battle and we won't even know it!"

"They wouldn't do that!" Jace laughed at his friend's silly worries "As much as I hate those bastards, they are not idiots. They wouldn't risk such a precious asset in a simple battle."

"Who knows?" Izzy shrugged "They've been getting bolder and bolder. More desperate, I think… A few weeks ago I would never have suspected that they would have a spy…"

"Or that Hodge would be that Spy." Jace frowned "He may not be in the Lightwood Branch, but he helped all of us with our training."

"Not to mention we spent so much time with him because of our Charges." She sighed "I never saw any signs either. Never did he seem like the kind of Shadowhunter who would turn on us."

"Do you think he was ever on our side?" Jace asked "He always seemed to feel strongly about Downworlders and their cause. Maybe he didn't turn on us, maybe he was always a spy to begin with."

"Bullshit." Izzy said "No matter how strongly you feel about the Downworlders, none of us can deny that their message is appealing. It's the reason why their numbers are growing so much lately."

"Well, for once, you're right." Jace said.

"For once?"

"Don't cherish the feeling for too long, Izzy." He smirked "Anyways, it doesn't matter if their message is appealing. I'm still going to kick all their asses."

"Oh, really?" she said "You are not killing any Downworlders unless you go to the Front Line, and even then it's almost impossible to happen."

"Almost, Izzy, is the key word." His smirk never left his face "You are not taking into account is that none of the Shadowhunters in the Front Line are as amazing as Jace of the Wayland Branch."

"How could I have forgotten such a crucial detail?" she asked, now also smirking "Because, truly, how could we ever manage without the Great Jace of the Shadowhunter Wayland Branch?"

"Say what you want, but if I got my hands in one of those Weapons I could win this War singlehanded!"

"Of course you could." Izzy rolled her eyes "You'd probably just go cutting throats and killing whatever is in the way, without ever considering what's around you."

"And it would work perfectly." His confidence did not waver.

"Because it works so well when we're in battle." She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey, I get the job done, don't I?" he asked "The demons die and the Downworlders run. What else do you need?"

Izzy frowned. She had no answer to that. Indeed, as long as the job got done, what else matter? So Jace was a bit too harsh in combat, but her always managed to keep their Charges safe. In the War his missions were always successful, Downworlders always tiring before him. He was incredibly talented, incredibly powerful, after all.

But Izzy would not let Jace win this argument.

Before she could come up with an answer, however, a young Shadowhunter boy appeared in the Church. Like Izzy and Jace, he was also wearing Mundane clothes, going as far as wearing glasses to blend in. Izzy never really understood why Max, also from the Shadowhunter Lightwood Branch, liked to wear the Mundane thing, but she did not complain. He looked cute, she thought. It was something he picked up from one of his Charges, years ago. While the Shadowhunter was still too untrained to fight in the War, he was still required to care for a Charge and protect them from the enemy. Through the centuries the kid had become incredibly talented, and Izzy wondered if there were advantages to being trained during a time when all Shadowhunters were expected to always be at its finest.

"Max!" Jace said "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in training?"

"Or keeping an eye on your Charge?" Izzy asked.

Max shook his head.

"Training was cancelled! Maryse and Robert had to leave."

"What?" Jace asked. Sometime had passed since the execution; the two older Shadowhunters should have returned to their normal schedule.

"Why?" this time it was Izzy who asked the question "What happened?"

"They found Alec!"

This is the end of Chapter 1! I hope everyone enjoyed it! If you did and you plan on staying with this fanfic for the 40+ chapters to come, please review! Reviews make for happy and motivated writers, and happy, motivated writers make for faster updates! IF you don't know what to review, tell me what you liked the most, what you liked the least, what do I need to change to improve, and what you think will happen in the next chapter. Where do you think this fanfic is going? What are things you are curious about? Please review, it doesn't take that long to write a few words of encouragement, and it honestly makes me so happy!