Chapter 2

This is a story about three children that bared curses,

A girl who's eyes were the key to time travel,

A boy who's appearance represented his death,

And a boy who's whole persona signified his curse.

This is the story of three children who grew up with nothing but each other,

This is a story about three children that represented each others hearts.

This a story of three children that grew and fell apart,

A story of three children that fell into darkness.

London institute, 1866

Will Threw another dagger at the wall, The dagger only hitting four inches form the target. He let out a curse in welsh and crossed the room, yanking the dagger out of the scratched wood.

He was panting slightly his dark hair plastered on his forehead due to the amount of sweat he was producing, He felt his cheeks redden from the heat, even though the room was cold. He walked into the center of the room, preparing to throw the dagger once again.

"Will?" He heard the door of the institute's training room creak open. "Will, are you in there?"

He grunted in response, his hand-with the knife still in his grip-fall to his side. He looked at Charlotte, A scowl forming his face.

"What is it Charlotte" He snapped. He drew his sleeve across his forehead, wiping off the sweat from his forehead. She came partway through the door, then paused.

"I have been looking for you for hours," She said with some sharpness in her tone of voice, Not that, that had any effect on Will. When he was in a mood, although he was almost always in a mood. "Didn't you recall what I told you yesterday, That we were welcoming a new arrival to the institute today?"

"Oh, I remember" Will threw the dagger. It stuck just outside the circle. Will held back a frustrated groan, instead he deepened his scowl. "I just don't care."

He head a stiffed laugh come from behind Charlotte, Will's eyes widen in slight disbelief before returning to the same cold look he always had. He saw Charlotte draw the boy out from behind her. The boy was strangely beautiful, They way his curling dark hair was streaked with silver, like an elderly man, not like a boy of twelve, His eyes dark and wide, which he later found out had a tint of silver when he saw him closely. He looked delicate, like he were to break if you so much as touched him.

'He looks,' Will thought, 'As if he is one step from the grave.'

"Will, You Shall be polite," Charlotte as she ushered the boy inside. "Don't mind Will; he's only moody. Will Herondale, may I introduce you to James Carstairs, of the Shanghai Institute."

"Jem" the boy said "Everybody calls me Jem." He took a step inside the room, He looked at Will with friendly curiosity. He spoke without the trace of the accent that Will was expecting. "You can too."

"Well, if everyone calls you that, it's hardly any special favor to me, is it?" Will's tone was like acid. "I think that you find, James Carstairs, that if you keep to yourself and let me alone, it will be the best outcome for both of us."

Jem hadn't bat an eye, let alone look hurt. Much to Will's disappointment. "I haven't trained since I left Shanghai," He said. "I could use a partner-someone to spar with."

"So could I," Will said, attempting to get some kind of reaction out of him. "But I need someone I can keep up with, not some sickly creature that looks as if he's doddering of to the grave. Although I suppose you might be useful for target practice."

His expression hadn't even changed.

Will saw Charlotte make a slight move towards Jem, as if she could shield him from himself. Will inwardly smirked. Good, this way he was less of a threat to sickly boy.

"If by 'doddering off to the grave' you mean dying, then I am," Jem said. "I sill have two years more to live, three if I am lucky, or so they tell me."

Will tried to hide his shock; He felt his cheeks taint with red. "I..."

Jem stepped towards the target painted on the wooden wall; When he reached It, He yanked the knife free from the wood. He turned and walked up directly up to Will. He was the same height as Will, their eyes met and held. "You may use me for target practice if you wish" Jem said casually. "It seems to me I have little fear from such exercise, as you are not a very good shot." He turned and threw the knife. The knife sailed through air and hit directly to the heart of the target, quivering slightly. "Or," He went on, facing Will once again. "you could allow me to teach you, For I am a very good shot."

Will was on new territory now, For two years and a half he has pushed every one away, anyone who has tried to help him, Yet here was this boy-a dying boy-who way somehow was his escape from the loneliness and regret that was slowly swallowing him the curse doesn't effect dying people. This boy Jem could be his salvation, but he needed to make sure."You are not really dying," he said, hope filling his voice. "are you?"

Jem nodded. "So they tell me."

"I am sorry" Will said guilt tugging at him.

"No" He heard Jem say softly. He his jacket aside and took out a knife from the belt of his waist. "Don't be ordinary like that. Don't say your sorry. Say you'll train with me."

He held out the hilt of the knife to Will. Will with some doubt slowly took the knife, His eyes never leaving Jems. His fingers brushed across Jem's, the first he has made contact with another human being without being scared.

"I'll train with you," He said.

~0o0o0~

Idris 2007

Lucy

Lucy walked through the halls of her home, memorizing every crack, every dent, and every bump. She took a deep breath savoring the smell of cinnamon and wood. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her sight, She wasn't ready yet. She wasn't ready to travel again, at least not this time, This time she wouldn't comeback, This time she wouldn't wake up to see her mothers smiling face, offering her some waffles and a coffee. She wasn't ready to leave her home, she wasn't ready to leave the city of glass, she wasn't ready to leave everything she knew.

She wasn't ready at age 11 when she first traveled, She wasn't ready the year after that. She wasn't ready when she first met William Herondale, silently crying in the darkness, alone. She wasn't ready when she then met James Carstairs a month after that, Coughing and struggling to reach his yen-fen. He would have died if she hadn't been there. She met the rest of the institute a year after that after the three agreed to tell the rest. She wasn't ready when a warlock came and visited her and told her that she would never returned if she traveled in time on her sixteenth birthday.

She just wasn't ready, She never was.

She had spent her time with her mother through out the day talking about her father- that she has never met- and how he and her mother had met. They talked about her Uncle, Luke Graymark, Who was betrayed by his own parabati. They talked about how she came about her gift, The sparkly warlock that has came and visited through out the years, about the strange grey eyed women that has helped them numerous times, along with a certain silent brother.

Lucy entered the living room of her house, catching sight of her mother curled up on the couch, a mug of coffee in her hands. Amatis looked up and motioned her daughter to sit next to her, placing her coffee mug on the little wooden table beside her. Lucy sat beside her mother and drew her knees up to her chest. They sat there in silence watching the clock, that was in the corner of the room, tick by. They had stayed up all night not wanting to waste any time in their last chance of ever spending each other again.

Five minutes.

"Your father was a reckless man," Amatis said suddenly. "He would never think before he acted, and I think that if he knew of you he would have never let go."

Amatis reach under the blanket and drew out a silver box, She handed it to Lucy. "I know that we don't have much time, and that I should have told you about your father a long time ago, but I could never bring myself to do it... That box right there will give you all the answers you need, It will inform you of what I can't bring myself to tell you."

Lucy took the box clutching it to her chest. "Thank you."

Three minutes.

"Mom," Lucy said drawing Amatis's attention. "What was his name, my fathers."

Amatis closed her eyes and sucked a sharp breath before she spoke his name. "Stephan, Stephan Herondale." Amatis reached out and pinched one of the few locks of blonde hair Lucy had in the mess of hazel hair that she possessed.

"He was blonde, and had the most beautiful blue eyes I've seen" Amatis eyes soften with each word.

"Prettier then yours?" Lucy said, feeling like a child again. Amatis looked at her daughter fondly.

"Even prettier then mine"

One minute.

"Was he handsome? I heard that Herondale's were handsome" Lucy said, Will popping into her mind.

"Yes he was. You reassemble him in a lot of ways, You look exactly like him, You two share a habit of scratching your head when your nervous, and you two bite your lip when you frustrated." Amatis laughed softly. "You are very stubborn, you definitely didn't get that from me."

Ten seconds.

Lucy felt her eyes begin to pulse. "I'm going to miss you"

Amatis hugged her daughter holding her close. "I love you, don't ever forget that"

One second.

Lucy felt her stomach drop and her eyes began to boil. "I love you too."

Amatis dropped her hands to her sides looking at the empty spot beside her, She silently hugged herself, willing the tears to fall freely. After a moment she stood up and walked into her room slowly sliding down against the wall, letting the sobs wrack through her body. and at the moment Amatis felt so empty as if something inside her had been remove, She felt like a hollow doll with no purpose.

She felt dead.

`~OoOoO~

London Institute 1878

Lucy was never fond of traveling through time, She always somehow ended up in the strangest of places. Like right now, Her foot was in the mashed potatoes and the other was in the salad. She looked around, well, Not really, because her eye sight was blurring and the pain in her eyes increased, but that's besides the point. Lucy hastily took on foot out of the mashed potatoes, Quickly followed by the next foot.

She heard a sound of muffled laughter as she silently hopped of the table. Her head snapped towards the sound, her eyes making out a blob of dark hair. Lucy scowled.

"It's not funny William" She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, as they began to burn.

"Of course it's not, Luce" He said. Lucy began hissing under breath as the burning increased.

"Lucy, Are you Alright" She heard Charlotte say.

"No, I don't think so. Charlotte remember what I told you, about That." Lucy grumbled,, pressing harder.

"Oh dear, Lucy are you okay? Will, Take Lucy to Jem he always knows what to do" Charlotte instructed worriedly. William hesitated but when he heard Lucy whimper he wasted no time in scooping her up into his arms and running towards Jem room, Lucy silently trying to keep her screams silent.

It was going to be a long day.


Hey *waves*

So this chapter is utter Crap. This chapter was originally focus on ONLY Will, Jem, and Lucy, But I kinda hit a wall there so I jumped into the events of Clockwork Angel instead. Yes, Tessa's there she just doesn't know what the hell is going on, So she just stays silent. There will be more Tessa next chapter though.

The thing with the burning eyes, So basically since this is Lucy's "Last" chance at time travel the color of her eyes will kinda fade away. Not entirely just on one eye, So from now on she will have one blue eye and one Golden eye.

And Lucy's a Herondale.

~Bookworm