Inspired by S. Meyer's 'Host'
Please review if you can!
Jace was hugging Clary close. They did it, they actually did it. Valentine was gone, the Mortal War will be over.
Suddenly, Jace felt a pain in his left side. His shoulder was burning, as if it was being touched by Angel Raziel.
"Jace?" Clary called out, her voice laced with worry. "Jace, what's going on?"
Jace didn't answer. He ripped his shirt off, bloody hands slipping through fabric.
It was his parabatai rune.
It was bloodied, even more blood seeping through.
That's why he felt so empty.
His other half...
Alec was dead.
The Mortal War ended, leaving many scars and open wounds behind it.
Many celebrated victory, but they kept it to themselves.
The misery and loss everyone felt overwhelmed everyone.
Clary watched out for Jace. The Jace she knew was broken. No one spoke of it, because everyone felt that way.
But he took it the hardest.
Today Lightwoods were attending the funeral or both of their sons.
Max, their youngest were killed by Sebastian, or Jonathan - it worked both ways.
Alec, on the other hand, was killed by a demon. When they started retreating after Valentine's death, he let his guard down. He felt like everything's going to be okay. He's alive, he has his family, for the first time he has Magnus - he had a life.
He just let his guard down, for one little minute.
Clary felt like she didn't belong, yet she went anyways. Jace was broken, and she had to be there for him.
She still thought it was strange that Nephilim wore white, but she did nonetheless.
The furneral was not in Idris, like expected. After finding out about their oldest child, Lightwoods went straight back to New York, not being able to stand the sight of Alicante. Clary followed, and so did her mother. Jocelyn was happy that she was getting married, but she couldn't celebrate her joy when everyone around her is suffering loss.
New York Cemetery was not far away from the institute. Clary remembered when they were here when Simon turned into a vampire.
But this time neither Alec or Max are rising from their grave.
Clary thought she glimpsed a silhouette in the woods, and she was right.
Magnus did not have the will to attend properly.
Even in a New York's cemetery Shadowhunters were burned.
Clary did not let Jace's hand go. He was shaking, both from tears and rage.
"Ave atque vale, my brothers." he whispered. "Hail and farewell."
Alec was smiling at Magnus. They did it. The demons were retreating, the war will be over.
Suddenly Magnus' expression changed, and Alec felt a sharp pain in chest.
Not only the demon's claw grazed his heart, but it's venom was spreading, and all Alec felt was agony shaking his body.
He woke up with a gasp.
He didn't know where he was or how he got here.
All Alec could see, that he was in a cozy apartment, sprawled across the floor.
But something was terribly wrong.
He didn't feel right.
He tried standing up, only to see that he's wearing something that definitely wasn't his.
Alec still struggled standing up. His body wasn't stiff, just... not right.
Finally, he was on his feet, and immediately felt unbalanced.
He was tall.
Too tall.
Alec looked at his arms, and they felt alien.
He clenched his fingers, as if to test them out, but they were still different.
Here's another thing - no runes.
Alec had no runes, no weapons. He didn't look like a Shadowhunter.
Alec wobbled to the mirror, and took it to his both hands.
The sight in it startled him.
He was looking at a beautiful, slightly too carefree looking guy. He had sandy blond hair, and deep green eyes. Only they looked like they had a whitish circle around it, as if gloving slightly, but it was barely noticeable. His skin had no tattoos, and definitely no marks. Alec couldn't understand what he was seeing in a mirror - the guy perfectly mimicked his actions.
But it wasn't him... that's not how he looks...
It wasn't Alec.
