Here is Chapter 02 of Truth's Shadow!

PLEASE READ THIS: Before we start, I want to remind everyone that this story will have 4 parts, each one of them will be more than 10 chapters long, and each chapter is 10 pages or more (this one was 14 without the notes at the beginning and the end). There is more to this story than boy-meets-boy, boys fall in love, boys get together… Not that there is anything wrong with that (I do enjoy reading fanfics like that), it's just that this is NOTthat kind of story. I'm working up a plot that is slightly complicated (it will take more than 40 chapters to execute it), and Malec will not be the only focus of it. The romance in this story will build up slowly (like I said, 40 plus chapters), and this first few chapters are more focused on building a solid world (for there are fantasy elements to this story), and introducing the characters in this new world (which is different from canon)… We'll to character development soon, as well as building up the relationship (Magnus and Alec will go from strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers in a slow and realistic pace)… If these things are not things you like, then this is NOT the story for you.

ALSO! Warning! There is a description of injuries in this chapter, that while not extremely graphic (in my opinion), it may make some people uncomfortable. If description of broken bones and open cuts bothers you, please skip the paragraph (it's all in one paragraph) after Izzy describes Alec's hair. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Part I, Chapter 01 Recap:

"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!"

Truth's Shadow

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

~Chapter 02~

The three main buildings of Alicante stood in the Central Square, forming a circle around a big garden with trees that bloomed in a forever spring. The Training Facility, where young Shadowhunters used to stay when not taking care of their Charges, was found south of said Central Square. The building itself was not tall; the corridors that linked each of the four towers could be viewed as mere walls created to separate the outside terrain from the garden that existed in the middle of the facility. Like the one in the outside, it had trees from times long gone and times yet to come; branches were constantly losing petals, yet never quite running out of them. There inside the young Shadowhunters would train for hours, laughter and cries of excitement sometimes being heard over the bells of the Court; or at least, that's how it used to be during Izzy's youth.

Back then, when there was no War, Shadowhunter children could be almost as carefree as Mundane ones. She remembered those days with fondness; being young and excited about everything she learned and everything there was to do on Earth. She remembered taking care of her first Charge… And she also remembers mourning her death. It had been her first encounter with it, her first mourning and her last, for after it her teachers explained that death was part of the life of those on Earth, and that every Charge she would care for would reach that same end. Her job, they told her, was to make sure no Demons ever got to her Charges while their souls still inhabited the Earth. Like all other Shadowhunters, she took those words to heart; never again did she allow herself to mistake a Charge for a friend… Earthly beings and Shadowhunters may depend on one another for their existence, but that is where their connections ended… A Charge was no friend, it was merely a job entrusted to her.

Her Ceremony, the day when she became a fully-fledged Shadowhunter and was initiated into the Laws of the Clave, she remembered with even more fondness. She could recall, clear as day, how Alec and Jace, both whom had gone through the same process two centuries prior, beamed with pride as she entered the Court; although Jace would never admit to that. Even Maryse and Robert, strict teachers as they were, had smiles on their lips as she finished reciting the Vow and stood up from the kneeling position, her true form as vibrant as it had ever been. Hodge had been there too, and he embraced her with pride, for although they were not of the same kin, the Wayland, Starkweather, and Lightwood Branches had always been closely netted, and she saw him almost in the same light as she saw Maryse and Robert, the Heads of her Branch. After that day she was no longer considered a child in the eyes of the Clave; and true, back then she had not believe herself to be one for at least three or four centuries… Now she knew better. All of them, even Maryse, Robert, and Hodge, were children, sweet and innocent children, before the War started.

Things were different now. Like all of Alicante, the Training Facility was somber, a ghost of its former glory. Young Shadowhunters no longer spent their days in its garden, training and laughing without a care; the War had changed all of that. Shadowhunters like Max were trained individually by the Heads of their Branches, hardly ever interacting with others of their age. Many times they were taken to the field, fighting real battles instead of mock ones, though Izzy's opinion it made little difference, for Downworlders and Demons were everywhere since the War started, and if you had a Charge in your care, as all Shadowhunters must have, chances were you would be in a real battle at least once during your Charge's life time. Even so, regular training was now an intense experience; a merciless one that put the training of previous Shadowhunters, even those of the Clave, to shame. The Ceremony had also changed, no longer being a time for celebration and festivity. Although it was still held in the Court building, that stood west to the Central Square, only the Heads of the Branches and the Silent Brothers of the Clave could attend. Immediately after it, if their Charge was not in danger, the newly initiated Shadowhunters were required to go fight in the War, side by side with those like Izzy and Jace, who had been battling Downworlders since their betrayal.

Max was not yet initiated, and would not be so for another few centuries. Izzy hoped that when the time for his Ceremony did come, the War would be over, and the young Shadowhunter that she had come to love dearly could experience the same joy she did all those years ago.

The Court, unlike the Training Facility, was a tall, beautiful building, with corridors that seemed to run for miles, and majestic towers decorated, both inside and outside, with Crystal Statues of Shadowhunters in their true forms, carved with such detail that Mundanes of the likes of Michelangelo would cower in shame. Few visions were more awe inspiring than that of the pale light of Idris catching the delicate skin of the statues as the wind blew colorful petals, and long ago colorful feathers as well, in a lazy dance; the mist sometimes would crawls from behind the crystal Shadowhunter's feet, sweeping down the walls, mixing with the ivy that had crawled up the tower. Alec had explained to Izzy, when they were both young, that those were statues of Shadowhunters who faced honorable deaths. Shadowhunters who fought for justice and love; Shadowhunters unlike any others, and for that reason they had been immortalized in the building of the Court, so that all others could aspire to be like them.

The building itself was the second most remarkable and important building in all of Alicante; though it did come first when the number of stained glass windows were concerned. They were, perhaps, one of the most beautiful things in all realms, depicting the Laws of Idris through intricate patterns of vibrant purple, pink, and blue, the combination of it all rivaling even the beauty of the Crystal Statues. The bells of the Court were another wonder; they rang whenever something of importance happened to a native of Alicante, being heard by all Shadowhunters, no matter where they were. Once that building inspired awe deep inside Izzy; she would look at it, hoping that she would be able to prove herself a worthy Shadowhunter and be welcomed in the ranks of those who served the Court. Before, whenever she thought of the Court building, memories of her Ceremony would come to mind. The crystal floor of all of Idris seemed even more mesmerizing inside those walls; the mist that had swirled around her ankles made her want to dance, and the soft pale light that came through the colorful windows as the Crystal Statues looked at her with their unseen eyes only added to the majesty of the place during that time of pure bliss.

Yet now, as she glanced towards the Court before continuing on to her destination, all she could remember was blood… Blood and the weapon capable of doing the impossible; glimmering in that same soft and colorful light, daring her to abandon her role as an obedient soldier.

But little did that matter now. Izzy and Jace were being led by young Max to the Infirmary, a tall and wide building that stood east of the Central Square, facing the Court. Like all the other buildings in the sacred realm of Idris, it was built out of white stone, with dead ivy plants crawling as high as they could, framing the stained glass windows, trying to reach the high peaked roofs. Its door was in the form of an arch; great and heavy, taller than the walls of the Training Facility, and wide enough to allow six Mundanes, or one fully grown Shadowhunter with their true form open, to fit trough. Inside many other doors led to different rooms, though most remained empty. More often than not the building was used as an assembly hall, when matters too trivial for the Court needed to be discussed; other times children would dare each other to fight inside it, for the stairs, furniture, and many rooms made for a most interesting mock battle, one that many times turned into a game of hide-and-seek.

Now, though, the building was being used for its true purpose, something Izzy never thought she would see it happen. Most Shadowhunters could fix their own injuries with simple runes and a few days rest; rarely did they require the assistance of another Shadowhunter, but even when they did, more often than not the assistance came from a comrade in the War, rather than a Healer from the Clave. Yes, Izzy knew that the Infirmary was now being used more often for its true purpose, but like the death of Hodge, she never though she would ever see it happening personally.

The sixth floor had the only room in usage at the moment. The three Shadowhunters ran up the crystal stairs without pausing to admire how the dense mist fell lazily through each step, resembling a slow moving waterfall. When they finally made it to the door, as heavy and thick as the one of the entrance, though not as tall or wide, the three of them stopped for a moment, composing themselves. Hesitantly, Jace opened the door, revealing a spacious room with simple beds laid in two rows on opposite walls. The windows faced north, and in the distance Izzy could see the peak where the Clave building stood.

Maryse and Robert were on the left side of the room, their backs turned towards the door, blocking the view of the seventh bed in that row. Izzy made her way into the room slowly, and when she angled her body just right, she caught a glimpse of Alexander of the Lightwood Branch; the Shadowhunter Izzy and Max, as well as Jace, though he would never admit it, always looked up to with admiration and respect.

She wanted to cry and run into his arms, hug him and not let go until she convinced herself he was truly there. Alec, as he preferred to be called, had been in the Front Line for almost as long as the War itself, sent out to fight with a team of talented and discreet Shadowhunters. Recently they had all vanished, communication with them being completely cut off. Izzy never allowed herself to think much about the Front Line, Alec's missions, or his disappearance, though the truth was that she missed the other Shadowhunter more than she thought possible. Part of her always hoped that he had not truly disappeared as Maryse and Robert had told them, but that his team had been sent away to accomplish something so important that low ranking Shadowhunters such as herself and Jace could never be told about. Yet as she saw his pale, hollow face, and his melancholic eyes she knew that her hopes had been in vain.

He was the first to see them, smiling as he did so; though that slight curl of the corner of his lips could hardly be called that. Apparently Robert and Maryse had been talking to him, for he quickly turned his attention back to their teachers, and nodded wordlessly, as the good and obedient soldier they all were. With that, the two Heads of the Lightwood Branch left the room, nodding slightly in acknowledgement to the three that were now completely inside the room. Although no words were exchanged, Izzy could easily understand the unspoken order: Don't take long, for he needs his rest and the three of them should go back to their duties before they are missed.

They moved quickly, and as they got closer to the slightly older Shadowhunter, Izzy could take in his appearance better. Alec had never been one to care much for looks, and so he groomed his own hair; cutting only the sections that had become too troublesome for battle, which resulted in an uneven black mess. Yet it was not the unkempt nature of his hair that worried Izzy; Alec's hair was longer than she had ever remembered seeing him, with strands blocking his eyes and others reaching lower than his chin. That, to Izzy and Jace, spoke volumes, for if Alec's hair had grown that long, it meant that the time he spent away had left him little time to prepare himself for combat; the state of his hair alone told Izzy and Jace that during all those long years he was missing, so many years that Izzy, for the sake of her sanity, had to force herself to stop keeping track, was spent in non-stop fighiting.

If the hair wasn't enough proof of such theory, the injuries across his body would suffice as evidence. Izzy could now see why her kin needed to be treated in the Infirmary; his pale skin, another characteristic of the Lightwood Branch, was missing in some of the few visible areas of his body, as though knife had worked its way beneath it and, with care practice, separated from the muscles that still clung tightly to the bones. Cuts could be seen everywhere, and the enemy had not discriminated between skin and muscle, some slices cutting ligaments that, were Alec's Healers not Shadowhunter from the Clave, he would have no use of his right arm anymore, the one he used to draw his bow. Most of his fingers seemed to be broken, though Izzy could hear the low cracks of adjustment and recovery; indeed, when she looked at his hand she could see the rune that helped mend broken bones. As she looked over the rest of his body, she could see many other runes, some carved in his skin so crudely that they left no doubt in the female Shadowhunter's mind that Alec had drawn them himself in a hurry, probably using the tip of one of his arrows during mid-combat. His ribs were covered by his clothes, and therefore not visible to her eyes, though Izzy could see by the way Alec had been positioned, and by the cloth tightly wrapped around his torso, that those were broken as well; no doubt soon she would also start hearing the crack of those bones, though they would be much louder than those of his fingers. As she looked to his legs, she could see that his ankles had been shattered, every single bone broken to a point that would leave a Mundane unable to walk for the rest of their short lives. The skin, or the little that was left of it, around them, too, were cringe worthy; blood and veins were visible, though unlike other parts of his body, those did not seem to have been caused by a sharp instrument, but rather a constant rubbing of a hard object against soft skin, causing it to slowly and painfully scraped away like wood when rubbed with sandpaper. His face had not gone unharmed, though most of the injuries had either been healed or were wrapped in a once-red-but-now-pink-cloth, with healing runes on his jaw and forehead. His left eye was covered, and Izzy was thankful for the small rune in his cheekbone, that would repair his vision. Burn scars could be seen everywhere, some ending where open wounds began, the image of burning muscles and tendons forcing the female Shadowhunter to bite her lower lip in order to keep her composure. The few patches of skin that were still, or perhaps already, soft and uninjured, were covered with more runes and dry blood. And as if all of that wasn't enough, Alec looked like a skeleton, proving that he also had little time to eat.

Jace was the first to break the silent, pulling a chair to the side of the bed and giving Alec a lopsided smirk before he spoke.

"Looks like they did a number on you, there; though I hope the dry blood belongs to them, or else I'll have to disown you as my honorary kin."

"Jace!" Izzy called out, finally finding her voice.

"What? I welcomed you all into my lonely Branch, I can easily kick you out."

"I thought we were the ones who adopted Jace." Max said, looking at Alec for an explanation.

"That's what Maryse and Robert want you to believe." Jace said "Why would I want to join the Lightwoods and work under someone when I can be the Head of the Waylands?"

"The Head and sole member." Alec corrected, his smile just a little more genuine than the one from before, though that may be because it was too painful for the Shadowhunter to force himself to do more than that "How do you expect to lead a Branch without people to follow you?"

"Details." The blond Shadowhunter said, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hands "I'm still the Head of the Wayland Branch, and one of the best Shadowhunter to ever live."

"If you are so good, then why aren't you in the Front Line like Alec?" Max asked, and although Izzy knew that there was curiosity in his tone, his question was posed as a challenge; a challenge for Jace to dare say he was a better Shadowhunter than Alec, the one Max admired the most.

"That's because Jace and Izzy are too flashy." Alec explained, still smiling. Izzy felt herself relax little by little… Alec's smiles had always been a form of comfort for her "The Front Line requires Shadowhunters who can work without needing all eyes on them or who give out hubris boasts of their accomplishments." He looked from Max to the two older Shadowhunters "Clearly something neither of them can do, no matter how talented they are."

Max's laugh seemed to erase all the tension in the room. Izzy and Jace joined the laugh, though the former tried to keep a pout on her face, while Jace claimed that his amazingness could not, and should not, be kept hidden from anyone.

They jested around a bit. Alec's smiles and eyes did not shine nearly as bright as before, though Izzy could easily see how anyone with such injuries would find it physically painful to be incredibly lively or joyous. Still, she couldn't help but smile at the idea of having Alec back. The three of them, Alec, Izzy, and Jace, had always been as close as Shadowhunters can get, always spending their free time together. When Max came around, they welcomed the boy into their group with open arms, and Alec had been especially doting; he always had that big brother quality to him, one that made all of them feel safe and secure, even if he wasn't the best fighter in the group. Even now he radiated of that brotherly kindness, making it even harder for small Max not to crawl into his lap, like he clearly desired to do.

Izzy could not count the amount of times she came to the injured Shadowhunter for comfort, or perhaps to let off some steam. He was always patient when dealing with her, listening to her complaints and letting her take her anger out on him without a word of protest. Many times he would take her to places on Earth which she had never thought of visiting, secluded areas of natural beauty that made her eyes wide in wonder. Whenever she vocalized any sort of hateful thoughts towards Earthly beings he would take her to witness some of the most amazing acts of kindness she had ever seen. Other times, when she needed to be at peace, he would show her the most isolated places in Idris, long past the gates of Alicante. He would stand quietly in the distance, sometimes practicing his archery, and other times just walking around; then she would call him, and he would be there in a blink of an eye, ready to do whatever he could for her.

He was her constant supporter… Her best friend, her strength, her protector, and her inspiration. Whenever they fought together, Alec was always more concern with keeping her safe then protecting himself. She remembered how back in her youth she would watch his moves closely, studying each of them with care. Whenever she won a fight he would be there, smiling proudly at her, and the victory tasted so much sweeter for she knew she had impressed him. She confided in him all her secrets, all her thoughts and doubts, and he would always patiently listen to her, easing her worries with smooth words and a small smile that spoke clearly of his affection. For as long as she remembered, Alec had been a great part of her life, just as she was an enormous part of his.

Nothing spoke more of Alec's love and dedication towards them, however, then when Jace lost the last of his kin to the War. Although small, the Wayland Branch had always been powerful and talented, which was the reason the majority of them had been sent to the Front Line. Little by little they were captured and executed by the enemy, until Jace, who had never been welcomed in the Front Line for the exact reasons Alec had explained to Max, was the only one left. The bells had rang that day in a somber tone, and the three of them had gone to Court, where the Clave delivered the message. Jace was the last of his kin, and due to his close proximity to the Lightwood Branch, he would now operate as one of them, until further orders had been given.

When the meeting was over Jace left without a word, and Alec was quick to follow. Izzy wanted to go to, but she stopped herself. Yes, Jace and she were close, but not nearly as close as he and Alec.

Back in the days they trained together, when Jace was still too young to know what pride was, he followed Alec around like a little duckling, just as Max did now. Some of the other Shadowhunters would tease Jace, and with his quick temper, he would snap at them, causing many injuries. Whenever the teachers heard the commotion, Alec always covered for Jace, sometimes taking the blame himself. So great was Jace admiration for Alec that even tried to pick up archery, though he was not talented enough. Alec had been the one to suggest for Jace to switch to the sword; his first time training with the one Alec had chosen for him was such a success that he never used any other weapon since.

Izzy remembered clearly that mock battle: Jace surrounded by five older Shadowhunters, defeating them with an ease and grace that left most of those around him jealous. As the final one yielded, Jace turned to look at Alec, both children beaming with pride at each other.

After that training, Jace started to shine brighter and brighter as the years went by, soon becoming the most admired Shadowhunter in the entire Training Facility. It was from that point on that Jace's ego and pride started to grow to the point of arrogance, though the golden Shadowhunter never abandoned the Lightwoods; in fact, his loyalty to them only strengthening as time went on. When he finally won a mock battle against Alec, both boys had smiles from ear to ear on their faces, and one would have never guessed that Alec had lost to the boy he used to protect in their younger days. It was then that Izzy learned that Jace's admiration and respect was not one sided; just as Jace strived towards being more like Alec, Alec strived towards being more like Jace. Both of them, in a way, completed each other. When battling together it was like a performance, one that had taken years of practice to perfect. They fed off each other's energies, communicating without words. If Jace needed someone to cover his four o'clock, Alec was there in an instant, before Jace even realized an opponent was about to take a slice at him. If Alec's target had moved even slightly out of aim, so slightly that the archer himself would not have seen, Jace was quick to hit them back into position, barely giving the opponent a second to register what happened before Alec's arrow hit them. Their friendship, their bound, was one that was formed once in a millennium; and for that reason, Izzy left Alec go comfort Jace alone.

She did, however, searched for them when too many hours had gone by. She found them in the outskirts of Idris, sparring with each other. It was clear to her that Jace needed to release as much of his anger as possible, and Alec was willing to help him in any way he could. Rather than letting Jace go fight in the War at that particular moment, when anger and grief made him vulnerable to all sort of attacks, Alec allowed the younger Shadowhunter to attack him with all his might, doing nothing else but evading those that were a bit too powerful. Finally, when the Wayland had tired himself out, he fell into his knees.

Jace did not cry, Izzy knew that, for she watched closely and saw no tears… Yet it was the most vulnerable position she had ever seen him in. Alec gave him a hug and held him close, like he did with her many times in the past. Jace did not cry, because Jace never cries, but he allowed himself to be sad and vulnerable in front of Alec. If the manner they fought did not speak of how strong their bound was, then that moment that Izzy was not supposed to witness did.

And now they sat there, together, all of them. Alec was injured, terribly so, but his presence still gave out that warmth that Izzy, Jace, and Max loved so much. Their Alec was back, and although the War was still strong, with no end in sight, Izzy could feel herself more at ease now that she had her three boys with her.

Yet there were still many questions that needed answering...

"Where is everybody else?" Izzy asked, looking around the empty room "Where are all the other people from your team? Where is Sebastian and…"

Alec looked at her with grave eyes before shaking his head. Izzy silenced herself, feeling a chill down her spine. Something was wrong and…

"I'm not allowed to talk about this."

Alec would never tell them what that something was.

"Not allowed?" Jace frowned "Not even to us?"

"To anyone," Alec said.

"But we're your kin!" Jace protested.

"Now you are my kin?" Alec asked, smiling slightly.

"No, you are my kin. I told you, I welcomed you all into the Wayland Branch; Honorary Waylands. I don't know why they haven't made it official yet, but that's the way it is."

Izzy rolled her eyes, before turning back to Alec.

"What about Maryse and Robert? Can they know about it?"

Alec nodded.

"I can only discuss what happened to the Heads of my Branch, the Clave, and those in the Court."

Izzy felt herself pale at the mention of the Court. Images of Hodge's trial and execution flashed in her mind. The blade, the blood that she did not know if it had been cleaned from the crystal floor under the mist; her, standing there, giving a full account of what she had witnessed. All of that came back into her mind in a flash; for a second she believed herself to be still there, staring at Hodge's body as the Crystal Statues stared at her in a silent warning. It all made her feel sick, more so than the state of Alec's body.

The heaviness of the situation, of the conditions that had brought Alec back, was finally concrete in her mind. Alec was back from the Front Line of the War… No matter how much she dreamed, it would take a long time before the four of them could be happy and carefree like she almost fooled herself to believe they were at this very moment.

"Will you testify?" Izzy asked "In Court? Will you have to go and say what you witnessed in front of the Silent Brothers and…"

Alec shook his head.

"I'm in no shape to go to Court right now." He said "They were here with Maryse and Robert before, when the Healers were patching me up. I already told them all there was to say; they'll not need me in Court."

"Couldn't they wait?" Max finally spoke "You are injured and…"

"They want me to be back on duty as soon as possible."

"What?!" Jace asked, his voice louder than Izzy would have liked "But you just came back from the Front Line! They can't send you back again!"

"They won't." Alec said. He smiled down at Max, trying to comfort him, though Izzy could see that the smile held bitterness "I'm in no shape to fight in the War at all."

"What does that mean?" Izzy asked.

"That I'm not allowed anywhere near the battlefield." Alec looked away, towards the window. His eyes had a far off look, and Izzy wondered if he was seeing the Clave in the distance, or something ever further off in the past "I'm too damaged to fight, according to them. I would do no good in combat, even if it wasn't in the Front Line; in fact, they believe I would do more harm than good."

Izzy frowned, anger boiling inside of her. She wanted to yell, wanted to call bullshit on everything. Alec was not damaged; he was not a thing to be talked about like that! Yes, the Shadowhunter was injured, but those injuries would heal in a few days and he would be as good as new! He would be able to fight, able to join her and Jace in the War, fight alongside with them, just like long ago! Alec was fine! He was an incredible warrior, an obedient soldier, a model Shadowhunter! It was an outrage for them to just keep him out of the War!

Yet she dared not speak a word, for one never questioned the Clave's orders, no matter how much you disagreed with them.

"What are you going to do then?" Max asked.

"The same as you." Alec smiled, the bitterness almost completely gone from face, while he turned to look at Max once more "I'll be taking care of a Charge… My first one in centuries."

"They are giving you a Charge?" Jace asked, a bit surprised "Who? When will it be born?"

"It has been born already." Alec explained "Apparently after Hodge's execution, his Charge has been left without anyone. They needed to give him a Shadowhunter, I needed a new Charge… It worked out perfectly for the Clave."

Izzy and Jace looked at each other. They knew perfectly well who Hodge's Charge was, and Izzy could not help but smile; if Alec was taking over Hodge's Charge, than that meant the three of them would indeed be able to spend more time together.

"Good!" she said "Then I know what we will do to celebrate your return as soon as you are out of the Infirmary!"


This part was always one that he enjoyed playing; after the usage of the rapid bow movements of trémolo, the sharp and well-marked notes of the marcato, and the occasional detached strokes of martellato, all on the G and D strings, with the application of extra pressure on his bow so he could get the strong and loud fortissimo the part demanded, he held the last note in the measure for a full three beats, dramatically decreasing his tone while his left hand worked a vibrato that he knew left his audience on the edge of their seats.

He paused for half a beat before starting once again, going to the second position and using the smooth strokes of legato on the D string. He occasionally switched to the G string, and changed his tone to one that demanded attention, but at the same time acknowledged his inferiority to the one of the D string. Then he quickly jumped to the E string, separating each note with accuracy, but also adding a bite to it, making it sound screechy and a bit unpleasant. This back and forth between each of the three different voices, as he liked to think of them, went on for another three measures before he started another march sequence, that preceded the most epic part of this piece.

As Magnus Bane played, he kept his eyes closed, slightly aware of the steady beat of the metronome to his right. Like most of the pieces he had written, he knew this by memory, and felt that visualizing the story he was telling was much more helpful than looking at the music score and keeping an eye for future slurs or shifts. It was not a good habit, he knew he should keep his eye on the music, yet he could not help himself.

This particular piece was the one he had been using to open every single one of his performances during this tour. It told one of his favorite stories, that of Sir Gareth going to rescue the Lady Lyoness while her, incredibly annoying, in Magnus' opinion, sister Lady Lynette followed along.

As a child he had been a fan of tales of brave knights leaving their homes in some adventurous quest. Dragons, magic, sword fights, traveling across the land… What wasn't there to enjoy? It was only natural, then, that he would eventually find himself enticed with the numerous Arthurian Legends.

Yet it was never King Arthur who caught his attention; sure, he liked the story of the fifteen year old who became King after pulling the sword out of the stone, and then had the great Merlin by his side, advising him on his quests and on the governing of the great kingdom of Camelot… But he often felt that King Arthur's heroic deeds were overshadowed by the love triangle between himself, Queen Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot. Contrary to what most people would think, the romance of the three tragic figures hardly interested the self-proclaimed Drama Queen; rather, he enjoyed reading about the other protectors of Camelot, the often underrated, in Magnus' opinion, Knights of the Round Table.

Sir Gareth had always been his favorite. Something about the story of the young noble becoming a kitchen boy, so he could prove to King Arthur that he was worth of being a knight by his skills, and not by his status, drew him. Sir Gareth, young and fair, wanting to win his place in court for his actions, not his name, had always been Magnus' idea of a perfect man. Whenever he stopped to think about the dashing knight, he imagined him as someone who tried to hold himself with pride, but underneath had an enormous insecurity. He pictured the boy watching his older brothers, and while there would be admiration in his eyes, there would also be fear that he would never be good enough. He also imagined someone whose voice held a certain steadiness to it; someone who would be able to reason with anyone, hence his use of legato when asking his violin to 'speak' in Sir Gareth's voice. It always broke his heart that the young knight, so set on justice, had been slain by Sir Lancelot, a person he admired perhaps even more than his own brothers.

As he continued to play the piece, named after the protagonist of the story, he found himself wondering with whom he identified the most: Sir Gareth or Lady Lyoness. Many times in his childhood he wondered if he was like the fair lady, rescued by a knight. Other times he wished to be like the handsome Sir Gareth; setting out in adventurous far beyond home, helping those in need.

But all of that mattered little now; Lady or Knight, he was as unlikely to be rescued as he was to rescue another. The violin was his comforter now, and he has long given up the dreams of quests, magic, and true love, for one of music, pleasure, and friendship…. In a way, the violin had been his knight, showing him that he needed to look no further than his own mind to live his adventures. His music was his voice, his way of telling stories. He may not be talented with words, but the notes that his fingers conjured could tell tales that would leave writes mad with jealousy.

Or at least, that's how it used to be.

As he finished the piece, ending with a somber G with a fading vibrato, the room was filled with applause, and Magnus turned around to find that, sometime during his practice, Simon and Clary had entered his apartment uninvited.

"Gareth, right?" Clary asked, smiling "I always love how you play this piece! I almost forget how talented you are until I hear it!"

"It's a fan favorite, isn't it?" Simon asked "It tells the story well… You know, if this live musician thing doesn't work, you can always start composing for movies. I'm sure you would be great at it, and it should pay better than concerts and what little money you get from people who still buy music."

"Yes, well, I'll wait to see how this goes for a while before I change the route of my music career." Magnus said, putting his violin down with immense care "What are you two doing here anyway? I didn't let you in."

"You gave us the key ages ago!" Clary said, frowning.

"For emergencies, not to burst into my apartment like that." He tried his best to make himself sound angry, though the slight smirk on his lips probably gave him away. "If you wanted to talk, you could have just called or texted."

"We live two floors above you!" Simon said "It would be a waste of battery and of minutes to do that."

"Besides, it's not like you answer your phone while you're practicing anyways." Clary said, putting some really heavy looking plastic bags on his couch, her actions being met by a death glare sent by a white cat that resembled more a fluffy, and slightly bipolar, fur ball "Oh, stop it Chairman Meow, you hardly take up the whole couch."

"It is his couch." Magnus said "Or at least, it is while he is there. That's how it goes with cats, Clary, as soon as they lay down on something the entire surface area belongs to them and them alone."

"Which is why if we ever decide to get a pet, it will be a dog." Said the writer, glaring at the cat.

"And that might just be the moment I'll stop visiting you." By now Magnus had already put away his violin, turned off the metronome, and got all his music sheets out of the way so the three friends could spend the rest of the afternoon together "What did you buy anyway?"

"Some new art supplies." Clary said "New York Comic Con is coming soon, and I just want to make sure I have an enough variety of art pieces to sell… I also needed a new sketchbook and some new paints."

"She bought both watercolors and acrylic." Simon sighed dramatically "And charcoal, and pastel, and, of course, the proper canvas and paper for each, in many different sizes."

"Sounds expensive." Magnus frowned, doing the mental math on the amount of money they spend.

"It is. Not to mention she takes hours to choose between brands and colors and… OW!" the writer turned to look at his fiancée, who had just slapped him on the arm "That hurt!"

"You deserved it!" she said "You know I can't just simply buy whatever! The material needs to have quality, and the colors need to be not only be right for their own shade, but also for when you mix them with other colors and…!"

"Please, skip the lecture." Magnus interrupted "So there's no chance you have some cute designer shirt as a I'm-so-happy-you-didn't-die-present in those bags for me?"

"No." Clary said, before opening her purse "But we do have something else for you!"

Magnus raised an eyebrow. The young woman then quickly gave him a piece of paper that Magnus suspected to not be a two hundred thousand dollar coupon to some major shop on fifth avenue.

"What is this?" he said, looking it over.

"It's your ticket to New York Comic Con." Simon answered, smiling slightly.

"No thanks." He answered, giving them back the ticket.

"Oh, come on!" Clary said "You never go to these conventions!"

"For good reason." Magnus shook his head "You know this is your kind of thing, not mine."

"But Magnus, there will be some pretty famous people there! And if not that, can't you at least come to support Clary in her stand?"

"Famous people?" Magnus asked, before smirking slightly "Anyone like James Marsden? He was in a few of those comic book movies, wasn't he? I wouldn't mind going to see someone like him."

"X-Men." Simon nodded "No, I don't think he will be there…"

"And what do you mean someone like him?" Clary raised both her eyebrows.

"Well, black hair and blue eyes is my favorite combination." Magnus chuckled "Maybe if I could meet someone like him in one of those conventions, take him home and have my wicked way with said man, than I would be more likely to attend one."

"Is sex all you think about?" Simon asked.

"Sex and music." He laughed "Not that I'm having much luck in that department, as of late… Music, I mean. I've been having plenty of sex."

"Too much information." Simon made a disgusted face, which only made Magnus laugh more "But what do you mean no luck in Music? Your concerts…"

"Are doing marvelously, yes, but it's all my old stuff, darling. I have to start working on a new record, and I haven't been able to compose anything decent yet."

"Is that your version of writer's block?" Clary asked, frowning "Simon is still in his writer's block."

"Not writer's block, but… Lack of inspiration." He sighed "Even though I had a brush with death not so long ago, I can't think of anything interesting enough to write about… And it's not like I can just take another Arthurian tale and put it into song. People get tired of that easily, and as good as Gareth is, it will not put me in the music history books."

"Maybe we should push you off a cliff, and see if you find inspiration there." Simon smirked.

"Maybe you need to fall in love." Clary smiled "Aren't the best songs based on love?"

"No." Magnus said, before he laughed once more "You won't see me composing love sick shit, Clary… If you want a romantic sonnet, ask your fiancée."

"I'm no good with poetry." Simon raised his hands, as if in surrender "You need to be some sort of genius to write that stuff."

"I'm serious!" Clary said "Maybe all you need is to find a nice man-"

"Like James Marsden?"

"to settle down with." Clary continued as if Magnus had not said a thing "Come on, we've known you since forever, and never have you been in a serious relationship."

"There is a reason for that." Magnus smiled "I'm Mr. Non-Commitment… And I like it that way. I'm happy like this."

"You sure?" Clary asked, frowning.

"Positive." He smiled.

And, honestly, he was. He didn't see anything wrong with his one-night-stands and friends-with-benefits lifestyle; he was quite content with it. Not to say he thought there was something wrong with falling in love and being in a serious relationship like Simon and Clary; it just wasn't his thing. Unlike most people, he did not want to go out there, looking for love… He much rather stumble upon it; live his life to the best of his abilities, and if he found love, someone to be happy with like Simon and Clary found each other, then that would be great… But if he didn't, that would be great too. He could see himself being happy either way, so why sweat over it?

Let destiny take care of that… She certainly would be a better match maker than Clary.

"As long as you are happy, then," Clary smiled, and Simon nodded in agreement.

"I am." He smiled "Now that's all done with, I'll need the both of you here early on Friday. My party has to be spectacular!"

And that, my dear readers, is Chapter 02! This chapter was actually meant to be longer, go until the end of the party, but as I was writing the bit with Alec, and realized how long it was, I decided to cut and put the party and (obvious spoiler) meeting of Alec and Magnus to the next chapter.

I hope the description of Alec's injuries were not too graphic… And I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! I really enjoyed writing it, I really did! I'm really looking forward to writing the rest of this story, even though it's going to be very long… I hope you guys are looking forward to it as much as I am!

Please review~~~!