Two chapters, one day. WHOOOOP! We just can't wait to get to the good parts :P Please review :)
"How's Drama?" asked Clarissa's Mum from her bedroom door. It had been another 2 years and still, Clary was the same as always; quite, low self-esteem, but the best artist imaginable.
"Not helping," replied Clary, boredom clear in her voice. Jocelyn sighed. She was going out tonight. A date. She had talked to Clary and Jonathan before agreeing to go on a date with him though. She wanted her children to approve a man she was going to be with before getting to the serious parts of the relationship, if it ever got that far.
"Isabelle?"
"She's been attempting to set me up with some boys."
"Has it worked out?" Jocelyn's eyes were full of hope. It turned to be short lived.
"Nope. She isn't giving up easily though."
"You're 16. Live a little, ok? While you still can?" Clarissa opened her eyes up at her mother. They looked quite alike. Red hair, green eyes, too skinny but healthy for their own good… yup. Definitely mother and daughter.
A few hours later, Jonathan knocked on Clary's door and opened it through the silence. She was in her study room, working on a new oil painting on her art easel. It was… Jace. She had attempted to paint, sketch, draw, colour, and even sculpt him, but to no avail. It was impossible. His bone structure, posture, tousled hair… she couldn't get the tiny details right, no matter how hard she tried.
The tiny redhead attempted to hide the oil painting, but with no luck.
"That's really good," complimented Jonathan, "but if you're gonna start to date him, be careful. He's a real player." Jonathan often hung out with Jace and Alec. Though they were younger than him, they all acted the same age.
"I won't. Not my type," said Clary. It was true. They were complete opposites. Style included. Jace wore mostly black, contrasting to his golden features. Clary wore lighter clothes, purple, red, and white, mostly.
"Funny you say that," Jonathan scoffed.
"Excuse me?" Clary placed her oil painting brushes down on the newspaper in front of her and stared at her brother with curiosity.
"Maureen. Remember her?" Of course she did. They had 3 classes together. Jonathan didn't wait for his sister to give an answer. "Well, she told me you have been sharing some 'eye contact' with him across the Drama classroom for a while."
Clary's mouth went agape. What? No? She had only been catching a few glimpses of him. Nothing good. Nothing good enough for her to develop a crush on him or anything. She just found him attractive like every other girl thought.
"We just know each other as classmates. I wouldn't know him any better than that," said Clary with vigour in her voice.
"Then why are you drawing him like a Shadowhunter? Or should I say, angel?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow at the oil painting. Yes, it was of Jace, but he looked different than normal. Black angel wings sprawled out widely, his clothes all black but a white wife beater underneath. His body radiated a gold light that lit up a dark room from brown to black on the sides. His eyes were sharp, almost broken. His cheekbones were well defined, and so was the muscles along his arms and abdomen.
"I…"
"Come on. I think you need to blow off some steam."
"I've got no steam I need to blow off," Clarissa pouted.
"Yes, but you might want to blow something. Preferably around 6-8 inches, 1 and a half to 2 inches in diameter…"
"Jonathan!" Clary smacked her brother playfully on the arm. "I don't need to train," she said frustratingly.
"No, you don't want to," confirmed Jonathan. He paused for a second, thinking of something deep to say so Clarissa would loosen up. "Dad trained us to be one of the best Shadowhunters to ever live. I'm positive that you use your stele now too."
The redhead bent her head down to the carpeted floor and shifted her feet slightly.
"By the angel… you haven't." Jonathan scanned his sister carefully for a minute. No, not a single rune on her skin in sight. Not even the tiniest black mark in sign of attempt. None.
It wasn't that she didn't want to, she afraid to. She did have her first runes at the right time and age, but once her eczema kicked in, she forbid herself to use her stele. There was no room on her skin to draw a rune without touching the open blisters, red rashes, or even the nails slits or where she scratched herself.
"Come here." Jonathan pulled his sister in for a hug. He hadn't realize this for 3 fucking years. He understood that the first year of them being in Canada, she was still adjusting; but, he expected her to start using her stele once again after the second year or so.
"Clarissa, we're unique Shadowhunters. We can't just throw away what we've been trained to do for years now. Until… that came up. Come on, train with me?" He called me Clarissa. He's always done that. Even when people started to call me Clary, he always called me Clarissa. I love that :) It's like how I call him Jonathan when everyone calls him Jon.
"I haven't done that for years, Jonathan. I don't think I can… not anymore."
"Hey, look at me." Her green eyes lifted up to see Jonathan's dark orbs. "We aren't normal Shadowhunters, Clarissa. If we don't train, we might as well go die in a hole." She took this in for a minute. Not that she pointed this out or anything, but she never went into the basement. That was the training area which she forbade herself to go. It would have just brought back memories.
"Ok." That was all she said.
Clarissa lightly walked down the basement steps and towards the training area. There were sets of archers bows and arrows, knives, swords, gear, extra steles, and even mundane weapons. To the side were the mundane items. Sure, there were guns and lasers, but Jonathan created the bullets out of the Iron Sister's metal, and being the smartass he is, he modified the wires in the lasers to be able to slice intangible demons in two.
"So, what do you wanna start with first?"
Clarissa's mind just completely blanked out as she walked towards the gear wardrobe. Inside were her Shadowhunting clothes from when she was 2 and all the way to when she was 10; the age she forced herself to stop Shadowhunting to benefit her eczema. At the end of the rack was brand new gear she never tried on, but seemed to be tailored just for her.
Looking down at the wardrobe, she saw a beautiful box with curves and victorian like waves carved into it. There was a lock on it, which only she knew how to unlock. Her blood. Silently, she brought up a nail to her index finger, slicing the flesh neatly. Gently, she pressed the slightly bleeding finger to the top of the box. The blood started to disperse evenly around the carved wood, and reached the locks within the box. With a click, the box was unlocked. Clarissa carefully licked the cut then opened the old box. She gasped at the object inside.
Her stele.
The emerald green and dark purple stele sat untouched on red velvet. There was metal leaves and vines come from the top and blended in with the coloured crystal in the middle. The tip was as sharp as always, perfect for drawing runes in an emergency.
With her left hand, she carefully took it up, holding it steadily, then drawing her first rune on the base of her right wrist. The Angelic Rune. The one that gave her light. Once the rune was finished, she felt herself brighten, as if she could radiate light like Jace was in her oil painting.
"Wow…" she sighed in awe. The skin was raw around the rune, but it made her feel most alive nonetheless. Jonathan smiled proudly at his little sister. She was finally becoming happier. After years of being in Canada, he had never seen his sister's face truly light up. Today was that day he finally got to see it happen.
"Draw a few more," he insisted. She didn't have to be told twice. Along her arms now were runes she had created when she was a child. Stronger ones that didn't need to be drawn multiple times because they were enhanced enough.
"Thank you," She whispered into her brothers' ear when she was done. Jonathan held her in a tight embrace. It was a moment that lasted a while.
"Go change. We're going to be training for a while." Cue the wink. She just nodded and grabbed some clothes from the wardrobe. She quickly dressed in the bathroom to tight workout shorts and a sports bra. She tied her hair up into a pony tail with a few strands loose. She remembered what it was like when going out demon hunting. Her hair would screw up somehow and fall in her face. She was going to make this training session count.
As she walked out of the bathroom, she saw her brother dressed in a workout t-shirt and shorts that went to his knees. He was sparring the air with a seraph blade at the moment. She eyed his movements until she saw he was done with hits warmup and coughed.
"Why do you have to be my sister?" asked Jonathan as he shook his head, but still held a smile.
"Uh… Is this too much?" she asked suddenly feeling self-conscious about wearing such revealing clothing in front of her brother.
"Nope, I think I know someone who might appreciate it though…"
"Don't. Go. There," she warned. They both had a stare down then laughed at each other.
"Wanna spar with me?" Clarissa nodded and looked at her options along the weapons rack against the walls. Her fingers trailed along the rack, skipping the knives, the whips, the Japanese weapons (katana, naginata, etc…), and stopped at the crystal swords. She pulled a seraph blade out. It looked slightly used, but that was because it was her first weapons, not including the stele. Her father gave it to her as a present on her 5th birthday. It was specifically made for her; lighter than any other blade, a grip fit for her small hand. A blade that would modify itself as she grew older and developed as a Shadowhunter.
"Good choice," said Jonathan behind her. He pulled a black blade out. Hm. It was just like Clary's, but made for him in the same ways as the white blade she held was for her. "Now, let's see if you still remember what we've done for the majority of our lives at this point."
The siblings circled each other, trying to figure out each others' tactics. It wasn't long before Jonathan gave the first strike. Clarissa didn't falter, she merely stayed calm and let her reflexes kick in. The runes she drew on her arms were boiling in her veins. They were finally being put to use.
Quickly, Clarissa did what her father had first taught her to do. An aerial. With luck, her feet hit Jonathan right on the chest. It made him stumble backwards, but if it were in real battle, she'd try harder.
"Are we using the weapons or what?" Jonathan waved his seraph blade in the air.
"Do me a favour and attack me straight on." Clary had no clue where the newfound strength of asking for what she wanted so directly came from, but it felt good. Jonathan shrugged and followed on with the favour. Clary side stepped, gripped his arm, blocked his second attack with her blade, and pinned him on the ground like her daddy taught her. Perfect.
"Okay, lets get back to sparring," she giggled.
"Oh, you're on."
The two had it on for at least another hour before they heard coughing in the background. It, however, wasn't their mother.
"I didn't expect such an innocent and quiet redhead like you to be a Shadowhunter, Clarissa. Or wear that either."
The midget girl gave a gasp at who stood in front of her. Jace Herondale in all his golden glory.
"I didn't know you two were related?" Jonathan smacked his forehead against his seraph blade.
"You've known me for 3 years!" He exclaimed.
"Some amount of time I've known Clary." Jace raised an eyebrow at her. "Tell me, Clary, does Isabelle know about this?" She shook her head and blinked once. No. "Wow, I'm ashamed. Your own best friend who shares the exact same secret as you, doesn't know who you really are. I thought you'd be more honest than that." Jace tutted and shook his head. He was just mocking her, she knew that. It was nothing more than him being Jace Herondale.
Clarissa stayed silent. She went to pick up her stele and was about to take the blade upstairs until she felt a presence behind her. It was foreign and definitely not supposed to be that close. She quickly turned around, pointing the tip of the blade at the Adams apple of the golden man behind her.
"Step any closer and that shitty dickhead face of yours is gonna be fucked up with blood and burned in hell." She never swore so many times in one sentence before, let alone sweated or cursed at all. The farthest she had gone was saying 'crap' but that was it!
"Woah, didn't know you could talk like that either." Jace instantly stepped back with his hands up.
"Jonathan," she turned to her brother. "thank you for bringing me down here. I'll see you at dinner."
She started to make her way towards the basement steps with her clothes until she heard,
"I was sitting on that couch over there for a whole hour trying to figure out who you were sparring with. And hot dddaayum, I thought that girl was innocent!"
Clarissa had no clue where her recently discovered confidence came from, but she just had to yell back, "Innocent my ass!"
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