Chapter 2 -Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
After wandering the cold halls of the Institute for a while, Vivian found herself in the weapons room. She was carefully polishing her set of scimitars, the moonlight shining through the window glistening off the curved blade. Vivian was good at finding ways to distract herself from her emotions. Right now she wanted nothing more than something to take her mind off of Jude. Off of his cold hands, fragile in hers as she had clasped them. Off of the sight of the bloody gashes along his arms, like rips in the fabric of her heart. Off of the vision of his body burning in the customary funeral pyre, and of having to say goodbye to her parabatai. If aught but death part thee and me, she thought, the words of the sacred oath echoing in her mind. His death was a possibility she could not allow herself to believe. So instead she hovered over the carefully crafted iron and set to work sharpening the runed swords.
Her dual wield scimitars were her favorite weapons. The lightweight swords made for swift movements, and the ability to brandish a weapon in each hand helped to extend her kill radius. After all, two swords were better than one. Fight smarter, not harder - that was her motto. Where Sera was all brute strength and sheer ferocity, Vivian specialized in outsmarting her opponent. She was an expert at predicting an enemy's move by their stance, calculating which hits would do the most damage where, and turning their own advantages against them. While she may not have the same physical prowess as her colleges, she certainly could hold her own against them in combat.
Vivian finished off her sharpening and polishing and walked over to the training mirrors, the hilts of the swords cool beneath her fingers. She took a moment to take in her reflection, startled by her ragged appearance. Her normally sleek pale blonde hair was falling out of its braid. Dark circles ringed her green eyes. There was blood and spots of ichor smeared across her white face, creating a gruesome contrast. She looked like death incarnate.
She swung her right arm around, the scimitars acting like extensions of her arms. Her careful motions were acted out with precision, each blade taking over where the other left off. When one would draw back, the other would complete the action in a swift arc of her wrist. She concentrated hard on packing power in to each swing, holding nothing back. Channeling her all of her anger, frustration, and worry for Jude into her movements, the blades were but glimmering flashes of iron. As the sweat poured down her face, she imagined striking out at the Flauros demon as it fell from the sky. In her head, she took it out with two clean blows of her scimitars before it even came within a foot of her parabatai. Lost in her training, she failed to notice the soft snickering coming from the corner of the room.
"Your moves are good, but there's an obvious lack of power."
Vivian nearly jumped out of her skin. Louis was standing in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, smirking. What an ass, she thought. Aloud, she said, "As if you could do any better."
"I didn't say I could." he scoffed. Much like Vivian, his fear for Jude was openly manifested in his face. His eyes were red, his hair a rumpled mess from running his hands through it in frustration. The set of his jaw was especially hard. He crossed the room towards her and hopped up to sit on the end of the work desk. Looking down at her, her attitude softened a little. She swallowed back an insult. He looked so sad – it was hard to kick a dog when it was down.
"You didn't have to be such a dick to me earlier."
"It's hard not to be pissed at you when you come back and Jude is hurt, again."
She scoffed. "For your information, it was no more my fault than that time the four of us were chasing that Shax demon down St. Charles Avenue and Sera decided it was a good idea for Jude to lure the demon out of its hiding spot with the temptation of a one-on-one fight. I don't remember you being the oh-so-mighty voice of reason that night."
"That was different," he snapped. "I was right there. And that was only a broken arm, not a deadly demon poisoning."
Vivian rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, only the searing pain of having your bone cleaved in two. Next time there's a choice between saving you or my freshly manicured nails, I'll remember it's only a broken arm."
The corner of his mouth curved up in a smirk. "Keep dreaming, Wolfhart. We all know who does the saving around here."
"Well, it certainly wasn't you tonight." Her voice was full of venom. "I hope your dungeon will be a comfort to you if Jude dies, as you couldn't be so bothered to leave it."
"Jude isn't going to die," he spoke softly. "That's what I came here to tell you, since you left so abruptly. Figured you'd like to know. The Brothers got here in time. Brother Enoch was finishing when I left, he said that the wounds looked worse than they were. Most of the cuts were shallow, there were just so many of them. He'll be asleep for a while as the healing runes do their job. But then he'll be good as new."
"Good as new," she whispered. There it was, the affirmation to quiet her restless mind. She stopped imagined his cold body lying on the infirmary bed as the life drained out of him. For now she could push the nightmare of having to say goodbye to her best friend as his body burned and his ashes were taken to the Bone City. For now. There would always be a lingering fear of losing Jude, of losing her parents and Sera and, by the Angel, even Louis. That was life as a Shadowhunter. We are but dust and shadows.
"But back to business." Louis stood up and studied the array of arms hanging from the wall. Picking up a heavy broadsword, he crossed the room to stand in front of her. He gripped the hilt of the sword in both hands, the thick muscles of his arms rippling as he raised the blade above his head. "While the puny scimitars may be your weapon of choice, I prefer one fit for a man."
"I don't see any men here," Vivian quipped. "Just a boy with a big toy. Overcompensate much?"
His answer was to twirl the hefty sword in a flurry of ridiculous swings. While the strokes might look pretty, Vivian knew any opponent could have had him pinned and begging for his worthless life within seconds. She made her move. With less than four slashes of her scimitars she had him pinned against the wall, one blade across his throat, the other over his bicep. Her face was close to his, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. "Your moves are good, but there's an obvious lack of intellect."
Rage at his defeat flashed across his hazel eyes. "Very funny, Wolfhart. Now if you could remove the sharp and deadly blade from my throat, please."
She smiled. "Make me."
Something shone in his eyes then. It was his turn to chuckle. "Oh I am so glad you said that." With a swift upward kick Vivian was knocked backwards. Before she could recover, Louis seized his opportunity to catch her off balance. He put all of his weight into one strong push against her chest with the flat of his broadsword. She was whacked flat on her back, the breath knocked out of her. Gasping, she looked up to see Louis wearing a devilish grin.
"When will you learn, little Wolfhart, that for as much as you pride yourself on your brains, I am still better." He strutted over to where she lay. In a flash of metal, he whirled the sword down and stuck it in the ground inches from her face.
"Bastard" she spat out. She rolled on to her side and sat up, slowly catching her breath.
"Only on days that end in y, sweetheart." He offered her his hand to help her up. She would have sooner kissed him. Ignoring it, she got to her feet and stalked out, making sure to give him a good thump on the shoulder as she passed. She heard him laugh.
Back in the infirmary, Sera was watching over Jude as he slept. He was so still, the only sign he was actually alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She clenched his hand. Though Sera was used to seeing the ones she cared about injured, it never got any easier. Brother Enoch insisted that Jude would be just fine, but she would have to see it with her own eyes before she could put her mind to rest.
"Seraphina, dear, you should get some rest." Her mother had reappeared in the doorway after seeing Brother Enoch off. "Judah will be just fine. Ironvines have come back from far worse – they a have strong blood. Tiring yourself out is not going to help him any, I'll stay here with him in case he wakes."
She walked over to Sera and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Cecilia Wolfhart had never been much of a fighter. In her youth, she had preferred the comfort of her school books and studies over the perils of battle. She had told Sera before that had it not been for her father, she would have become an Iron Sister. Her mother was warm, gentle, and delicate – great qualities in a mother, not in a Shadowhunter. But right now, Sera needed that tenderness to calm her worried mind.
"No," she said. "I want to stay. It was my fault he got hurt in the first place. If I had just killed the demon when I first tracked it down and then it wouldn't have gotten away and..." She trailed off. It was the truth. She could have gotten a better shot on it the first time if she had waited just a moment longer for the demon to get a little closer to her. But she had acted impulsively and swung at the first pitch instead of waiting, and it had cost her. That was always her mistake. While she let her natural instincts drive her fighting, and she was one of the best there was, whenever she slipped up, they were to blame.
"Don't be silly, dear," her mother said. She knelt down next to her daughter. Clasping Sera's hands, she met her eyes. "We can never know when these things happen. You know I once sought a life a little different than this. I sought to escape the circle of death that surrounds being a Shadowhunter. When my father died when I was just a girl, I thought that there must have been something I could have done, that anyone could have done to change his path and bring him back to me. But death comes for us all in the end, Seraphina. We don't know when it's coming, or how. All we can do is live, and be ready for it when it does come. Be it to us, or the ones we love. For now, just be happy that Judah will live to see another day. Learn from the mistakes made tonight, but do not blame yourself, darling."
Sera tried to hold back her tears – crying was a weakness she did not allow herself. She gave her mother a weak smile. "Mom..."
All she said was, "I know, dear." She stood up and straightened her dressing gown. "But there are other important issues that must be addressed here as well. Flauros demons are a rarity in these parts anymore. They rarely leave southeast Asia, for one to be in North America is unheard of. What could have possibly brought it all the way to New Orleans? There's always a chance it got lost, or came out of its' portal a hair too early, but these are equally unlikely."
"Really?" Sera said. She had never paid much attention in any lesson that was not about combat. Sure, she knew enough about demons to know what she was fighting and which hits would do the most damage, but she did not care to know what their favorite bedtime snacks were. "No wonder it was all alone. It certainly didn't seem smart enough to survive by itself for too long. And it didn't, thank you very much."
Her mother gave her a look that she reserved especially for her, one that Sera liked to refer to as her Bitch-please face. "Oh, I'm sure of it." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Regardless, I shall absolutely be looking in to what on earth a Flauros demon was doing so very far from Asia. Now, off to bed, Seraphina. And wash up, that gorgeous pale skin of yours is covered in dirt and blood."
Sera hadn't realized how exhausted she was. The fight with the demon, carrying Jude, and the resulting emotional trauma had finally caught up with her. It took all of her remaining strength to stand up, and when she did it was all she could do not to let her legs give out beneath her. Looking at Jude, she relaxed more. The color was returning to his cheeks, and she could see that his breathing was much steadier. He would be just fine.
"Let me know the second he wakes, okay?" she demanded.
Her mother gave her a warm smile. "Of course. Get some rest, depriving yourself won't speed up his recovery. Go." With a push of her shoulders, she shunted Sera out of the infirmary. Once back in her room, Sera collapsed immediately on to her bed and fell in to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.